ISABELLA DeSENDI
Buffalo
Spring will come and with it the audacious dirt
Weekly poems, selected by the editors. Featuring new work as well as poems from our rich archives.
Spring will come and with it the audacious dirt
love:
how is it?
stop off some miles after the WY border stand over Tongue River
full body of a deer
Both hands large enough to palm a globe
Just as a fishing boat passes
between me and the rising sun
1.
stole guilt from the guilty, became guilty himself
1. The fire hops the 405, the sky
is never blue again
Blessed are we, betrayers of all counterfeit kinships
Sunset purls Lake Fayetteville golden. The margin punctuated with goslings
I have eulogized the dead my entire life, and this has exhausted me.