may or may not have a few copies of the Aubergine collection left. It'll have poems by Maureen, Shanna, myself, and a handful of other poetical he-spies and she-spies. Swing by his blog and fire off an email to try to reserve your copy. While you're there you can read delightful poetry like this, from his poem Alice, or Awkward:
A game girl-shape came glimmering through the dusk,
clattering goth gestures with her spine, hair, and hands.
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