Browsing Category Dog Days of Poetry

Fabric

Faded, threadbare, my earliest memories are stitched together by the whir and click of my grandmother’s Singer 66. She kept me clothed—through the corn-silk heat of Iowa summers to the snow-blind winters with ruptured water…

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Sugar, Starch

That’s how the cornin its summer song of silk and husk, its tassels waving across the field, calling to rat and raven; how my mother, before she lost her heartand lungs; how my brother-in-law, before…

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Frontier(s)

Against an unsettled skyline puncturedby flit & bird-shadow, song & plummet, someone else’s history unfurls beforethe ghost of my grandfather can wrap his huge dead hands over my son’s not-yet-dead eyes. Is this what it…

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