Crooked shack on a snowy plain near mountains
More of the same fields rise when driving past. I skim the ancient junk piles, measures of time and waste from the rural professor, the ubiquitous poverty of ideas about how to clean this abandonment and romance. Romance is not actually here or anywhere. A repose inside the lack of touch, the lack of poet body like a house slowly eroding into the ground, presently unknowable. Put two hands on the steering wheel at whatever time seems to offer the most control. Get to work on time. Anne Garwig Anne Garwig’s poetry has appeared in The Bitchin’ Kitsch, Broad!, and the Jenny, among other journals and anthologies. Anne completed the 2017 Poetry Foundation Summer Poetry Teachers Institute in Chicago and teaches in the English department at Kent State University in Salem, Ohio. She lives in Youngstown, Ohio.
1 Comment
Da
7/24/2024 02:53:36 pm
Quite nice, actually
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September 2024
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