![Selected Poems | Nate Logan](https://thegravityofthething.com/wp-content/themes/vogue/images/blank_blocks_img.png)
Selected Poems | Nate Logan
"Dan will raise his right hand, slap it against my opposite hand, and say “Flesh collision!” without a hint of humor. / Beatrice walks up and down the aisles of the outlet store pausing only to tap her feet along with the occasional dated earworm..."