Corn stover on an Indiana field after harvest, Keith Robinson


dull pains cloud into fever dreams
in the daylight

the time my molars hurt so bad I dreamed
of thumbing them out like a row of corn,
kernels falling into my palm like tic-
tacs until the throbbing thinned to

instead I visited a man who put me to sleep
and took out my teeth and I paid him money
to do this

while I slept I dreamt
of fields of wheat
collapsing two by two as I walked past
as I danced past, to a rhythm, in a pocket, with a freedom
I have never known


: :


In every ache there is a seed
unconnected to anything we can see with our eyes
but alive to a life outside of sound,
quick as light, sooner than start or end
or in-between.

that seed is for the living
that ache is for the living
this cool water is for the living—




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s