Allen Forrest © 2017 All Rights Reserved


Yes, that boulevard, that
rain-wet road, the truck
that tried to bypass
my red caróyet
skidded at an angle, in,
swallowing half a decade
(the brain sheered left
along the bone and split
apart my former self). Inside
that fractured dusk, ink soaks
into a ring of trees Iím
pinioned within.


The Alley

On one side, the embankment wall,
massive grey-brown squares of stone
that separate this alley from the street.

Oblong swath of sky
crisscrossed by power lines
and digital church bells
set the afternoon in place.

Dust, like scented powder, 
drifts up in clouds around her waist.
What did she do
before she landed here?

On the avenue, the tall man
folds himself efficiently into his car,
alert, as if he travels
in his mindís front seat.

She remembers feeling that,
and some part clears.
What had she planned
when she still lived out there?

Marcia Pelletiere
Copyright © 2017  

Marcia Pelletiere is a poet, musician, and interdisciplinary artist. Her two poetry collections are A Crown of Hornets (forthcoming, Four Way Books, 2019), and Miracle with Roasted Hens (Spit, Bite Press, 2011). Marciaís poems have appeared in Ploughshares, Southern Poetry Review, Prairie Schooner, JAMA, Painted Bride Quarterly and elsewhere.

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