Nat’l Poetry Month 17/30

Francine peels oranges off  a veranda in Texas. In a twist, tang, grackles take off their clothes at sundown. Dresses, Francine writes, I once have worn in a storm in mid-day, rare. The smell. Francine peels—oranges, darkness drunk from a well of the dead—happy to have their clothes back, a view of birds. Francine writes,  Once I have my own veranda, I’ll dress in mid-day, wear from the dead, darkness. Drunk, Francine eats oranges—happy to be in Texas where grackles twist, tang in sundown. Francine writes, I am drunk. Take me off to a well of grackles, oranges, peel me.


1 Comment

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One response to “Nat’l Poetry Month 17/30

  1. this is beautiful. good writing derives from texture; you seem to innately know that.

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