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  • There are years of my life 
    unaccounted for,
    pages in a book I skimmed 
    and tossed aside, 
    and yet they have, 
    I must admit, 
    blossomed in the broken spaces 
    of those who have
    loved me the fiercest. 

  • I’m finally publishing a book!

    I’m finally publishing a book!

    They asked me why I was writing this book and I said that love has no reason to exist. I said I’m just trying to understand why things are the way they are, and why some of us have houses and others don’t even have a country, because the ocean just took it away from them.

    We know exactly how to start and end wars, but why haven’t we learned more about creating peace?

    Most of us seem to hold on to the assumption that if the rest of the world could only think like us and behave like us, that somehow our problems would simply vanish.

    My book, Us and Them, is a poetic exploration of the vast distance we’ve created between those two simple words- us and them. I would like to invite you to be part of this journey with me, and hopefully we can start a different kind of conversation.

    THE PREORDER FOR MY DEBUT BOOK IS NOW LIVE FOR THE NEXT 30 DAYS!

    Click the link below to learn more about the book and reserve your copy of “Us and Them”.

    🔗PREORDER LINK:
    https://igg.me/at/usandthem/x/17975916#/

    Comment below if you have any questions or thoughts you’d like to share. I look forward to hearing from you!

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  • $20.64

    $20.64

    The end of the day is near,
    and I’m flipping through the channels,
    Searching the airwaves,
    For some semblance of truth.

    Above the talking heads of the men in charge,
    Beyond the voices who know it all,
    Through the barrage of noise,
    I finally find what I’m looking for.

    My soothsayer.
    My truth teller.

    It’s written all over her face,
    Tears as real as cicadas,
    screeching outside my window.

    I try to say something,
    But the cacophony of men,
    Drowns me out.

    Are you there? she asks.

    Yes I am, I shout back.
    Why are you crying? I ask.

    She says something, but I can barely hear her.

    She is holding a piece of paper, something official.
    She points to it and starts screaming again.

    What is it? I ask but she can’t hear me.

    She closes her eyes as though to compose herself.

    She starts shouting again,
    And this time,
    All the talking stops.

    I lost my daughter today, she says.

    The piece of paper – $20.64.
    Was her daughter’s last paycheck.

    © 2020 Ramin Gillett

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