Crawling into faces on the cover, we probably
could settle on one place I thought you resided. Crawling
into obvious signs of amateurism, I am original
by default. Crawling into a lasting monument
you will smile on me, please. Crawling into cow skulls
and elk vertebrae, speak only what will bring us
closer. Crawling into seashells and antique crockery,
she wonders if there will even be a birthday card
in her mail. Crawling into her pickup or ’60s Mustang,
you encounter limestone walls lined with leatherbound
books resplendent in gold trim and lettering.
Poem copyright 2014 by Jnana Hodson
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