{"content":[{"text":"Three Poems \n Trenten Johnson","bbox":{"left":0.415842,"top":0.100163,"width":0.49987299999999996,"height":0.102604}},{"text":"I. Buddhism \n there is something \n exquisitely unspeakable \n about the first day of fall \n whose leaves billow a swarm of butterflies \n and land perfectly \n no matter when or where. \n 2. Rains Come \n Before the week of rain \n stewed the delicate dusting of fallen leaves \n each one a crumbling husk \n into the shell of smashed pumpkins on the road a week after \n Halloween.","bbox":{"left":0.132446,"top":0.304001,"width":0.6546129999999999,"height":0.298332}},{"text":"You should have seen it then \n when the wind danced with brown and yellow \n and all life spread out nude and clean \n under a rustling blanket in the weak sun.","bbox":{"left":0.13441,"top":0.620764,"width":0.506004,"height":0.08230100000000007}},{"text":"94","bbox":{"left":0.489256,"top":0.948176,"width":0.022704999999999975,"height":0.022643999999999997}}],"images_bbox":[],"images_bbox_not_text_overlap":[]}