Poems

DAN KAPLAN Whatever an Infinitesimal Dog Tells You

Whatever an infinitesimal dog tells you about memory
begins with couture.

Never to be taken lightly are the evening gown,
silk purse and pashmina shawl.

I grew up in the city
if it wasn’t clear.

My head was in the middle
of something.

I hope you can see that,

a candle in the ribcage of the coyote
living in the graveyard.

A surprise, this new trouble with distance.

Suddenly the neighborhood cats
are vanishing,

the tuba solo concluding
and sadly you concluding
it wasn’t a tuba.

 

Dan Kaplan’s second book, Instant Killer Wig, was published by Spuyten Duyvil in 2018. His work has appeared in American Letters & Commentary, VOLT, Denver Quarterly, Ninth Letter, Paperbag, and elsewhere. He is managing editor and poetry co-editor of Burnside Review and Burnside Review Press. He lives in Portland, Oregon.