PICKINGS
Poetry from NHI publications
70 SLUGS IN ONE DAY |
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Transported to the curb by the big maple hibiscus mock me sticking out their tongues. The slugs have done their jobs too well — all the plants sucked dry with my head upside down searching them. So hot naked feels clothed dinner alone mourning dead beans and marigolds. Too late to start over I hear them mutter in the gutter while the weeds cheer. |
JOAN PAYNE KINCAID |
from New Hope International Writing Vol.15 #3 Next poem Previous poem |
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