This is not the type of poem that I usually write – I tend to place value on connectedness and some sort of sense-making, in one form or another. This week, my professor challenged us to write a poem that was a series of images that were not related, or only had a loose connection to the stanzas around them. The result:
She calls her Mom long distance riding the 2 am train
to JFK: “I’d rather go broke in Europe than in this shithole”
steel squeals beneath her over the New York state line.
A boy in damp cotton socks stands in the creek bed
throwing round rocks upstream into the bubbling water.
Later he tells his friends that his father taught him how
to skip stones.
Too many bottles of apple juice
outnumber the scarce containers of juiced kale and coconut water
scavenged by jogger-clad housewives.
the contact between windshield and bald-capped bird
sends fissures spider webbing through the glass
and feathers streaming in through the rear windows.
Kudzu can completely cover an acre of land in as little as 6
months. it takes the plants beneath another three to give up.
I have been told that drowning only hurts until you
are water through and through.