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Selected Poems
FOR
A MICHIGAN FIELD
Claudette Buelow
FEMALE
IMPERSONATOR
(for Sean Penn)
Karl Tierney
FUCK
YOU
Hilary Melton
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ISSUE
NUMBER FIVE
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ISSUE
NUMBER SIX
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ISSUE
NUMBER SEVEN
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ISSUE
NUMBER EIGHT
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ISSUE NUMBER NINE
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STARFISH
If a starfish
Loses an arm
It grows another
Places a shell gently
At the bottom of a hole in the sand
Close to the surf
The sand is wet
And filled with life
Filled back over with sand
This morning I noticed you
Across the boardwalk
Briskly walking
My father died
I saw him everywhere for months
Now only once in a while
Uncle Leo
I spotted just the other day at the market
Fingering a can of tuna
Last time I saw him alive
It was Malka’s funeral
Uncle Leo looks like a chipmunk, you whispered
We held our giggles—
A couple of school kids
Watching the bigkids doing it
Under the boardwalk
In the parking lot
Back of the market
Uncle Leo looks like a chipmunk
But it is just the cancer
Changed him
Filled his cheeks with mushrooms
Crushed gray hat
Frayed sweater
Unraveling since the day Aunt Sylvia died the summer before
Late afternoons
A doe came softly into the meadow to feed
Wary we held our breath
After the service
We name the doe Aunt Sylvia
That afternoon Aunt Sylvia does not come to the meadow
Nor the next
The doe never returns
We broke camp and drove
To the sea
The way you were walking
You were running
From everywhere
We have ever been together
A shell placed gently
At the bottom of a hole in the sand
Close to the surf
Arm and arm
We stroll the boards
All the while you are somebody else
Briskly walking
Without me
The shell will grow
Into a clam again
Time to cross the sand
Allen
Brafman |