there.

 

Chad Lietz

from Fallow

 

In this town with three churches

the fresh-scrubbed faces of men
with work-hard hands, their wives
the same, bow for need & show
                                     a hope


that humility is not its own reward
hope enough to make it grow

                                                & prayers & prayers
                                                & hands & holes

 

 

                                                            12 million wings buzzing
                                                            a paper brogue, black out
                                                            the sun—          Maya

                                                                                    shivers the
                                                                                    river, his spittle

                                                                                    cud the tar
                                                                                    pitch world.

 

                        Widening chevron
                        feed this world

                        from out yr razor
                        beak or mincing

                        locust jaws.

 

back | issue 4

 

 

current issue | archive | submissions | events | books | about | home

there 2008