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40 the minnesota review Amy Fusselman The Bugs My whole body down the length of the backseat, my head on my own pillow I know one day I will go to heaven Like this, listening to my fatherdriver opening beers, neither looking forward at the strange mosaic of dead bugs nor backward at the strange heaps of dead animals, but out my window, thinking I can see everything reflected in my sky, my father hidden behind the sign Welcome to Ohio, taking a forceful piss, my mother and I in a cornfield invisibly doing the same. (I am ten and have never been anywhere) I am being taken and I am fearless and I have grown so suspicious in these intermittent years that I barely recognize myself in the grey-sky mirror where my father is always zipping his fly and I either am or am not my mother Fusselman 41 Going to heaven, the bugs Going to heaven, the animals when my time comes I can't stop looking forward or backward, crying I can see the invisible things now I have never been anywhere like this before. ...


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pp. 40-41
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