Poetry | Word Riot

Hachures by Stacey Tran

Hachures1

Do you remember the first time you read a map and could not understand where we were and who

I remember poking my finger in the clay –what served as soil in the side-yard of my youth in Kansas–

To live, to pass the point of undertaking, to give until now weeps a wall of words. What else can

Eggs

Listen to a podcast of Paige Riehl’s “Eggs.”

Represent forced abstinence.Not that this is problematic for chickens(but who can

I can see dark things through the envelope you gave me.

At some point, the weatherman is going to

In the summer I smuggled you tomato plants. We hid inside the clear, flapping plastic amongst the wet bristle of

Listen to a podcast of Michael Lee Johnson’s “Leaves in December.”

Leaves, a few stragglers in December, just before Christmas,

Sometimes, as if it were a man, you’ve got to get on your knees to coax a flame. Get too

Put it together with shadows So it can strangle another Tiny one Disguise it as a tree Without leaves Build your house

It’s a boy. Here, a box of cigars. The best. Break the sealant sticker with your index finger sliding.

Run