by Jean Valentine
I heard your voice on the radio
thirty years dead
and got across the kitchen to
get next to you
breath and breath
two horses
But it wasn’t you back then
I was liquid to,
it was my life:
I wanted to be you.
Amount to something. Be
the other
the ready stone
—prayer-rag tied to a wire fence, a branch . . .
Last updated March 18, 2023