the well-deserved anthology issue
notes from the eds
Thank you for your interest in
applying for the __________ position in Gate 4 of Chamber Complex
Hey, but we're a long way from Canada
now. Long we are, and far, from the wheatfields and metric system
Intervals for her are the same
only cheaper, faster, so
People from three counties flock
to see the man who folds his wife like a pocket knife each night
Quote anything and for a while
you're going to sound stuck. Rest, write, love, not in that order
She smoothed her newborn hips,
got flashes of a warm night. Still Fall enough to hear the boys
at school, drilling down in numbers, fast catches and under jean
snatches in the leaves.
I believe everything I read.
Every single written word crystallizes into fact.
She was born in December in Baraboo
or thereabouts—small, still, blue, a girl, and, by some trick
of oxygen, alive.
Cavort is a smartie word. It
was on the vocab quiz. Maybe Daddy knows it because he used to be
a smartie, too. Now he's sore arms, sore neck
The weekend all the leaves fall.
Empty house as an index of possibility. Out by the private airport,
Sunday at dusk
Rare the oils summoned / to a
woman's caress, / the tangled hair
This grandmother used to harvest
tomatoes, which doesn't seem right, seems an utterly hopeless act,
a form of depravity
this air wants to come back /
is gaining momentum, grinding down
in the photograph / the women's
faces have been covered / and their sexes exposed
In the light of this light, us
brothers, we raise back our hammers. We line up those rusted nails.