Genre: Poetry

Each of Us Chimera

Soon after he came home to Arkansas,
mother’s cousin Larry became a stone on a hill.
She tells of the monkey leashed

and taught to ride his shoulder
as he walked the couple blocks to Main
when they were young, …

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It’s Like This I Told the Archangel; Fabulous Outrageous Termite Mounds; & Trees Line the Road Into

 

It’s        Like This     I Told the Archangel

                                                                     who can’t swim—

crazy     crowded     under great waters

two hours from shore and so misleading   dull vast gray    not even blue if you 

look from the boat   a great nothing really      except …

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Across the Rock

The first time I left home was before I was born.
I was barely formed. A scrap. A sample, at best.

I was more my mother than me, then, 
I think.            We can’t remember.

The plane lifted my mother’s
body …

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Praise for the Porchbed

Praise for the porchbed is praise for SLEEP.
Wrapped in cricket and cicada-sound sleep.

Rapt in rain sleep. Worry and all-trouble erasing
sleep. Smoothed-out sleep.

Counting sheep and Bo Peep sleep.
One two three four five six seven
sleep and …

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