Sluice poem
cyanic sunrise fluid flow
sculled a density entire
cyanic sunrise fluid flow
sculled a density entire
Fishermen along the pier shuck a bucket of oysters.
Who begged me to be here beneath fields of open sky,
In this deluge, no Noah, no ark. Should some hidden truths reveal themselves
“Hemphill bends a live wire through an intimate tone.”
“I write this from an unnumbered reread of Removal Acts.”
“I’ve wasted so much time assuming my own strangeness and how I might put others at ease. Whatever ecotone I live in—it is not the uncanny valley. It is a real and human place.”—Asa Drake
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