May 2013 - Comments Off

Hickock

Esme Franklin '13

I neglected my business
and came to know helplessness.

Like that branch too high to cut,
beatpanting on the pane

of night’s inked bleat, I
felt myself adopt insistence.

And what stomach, lying with
sweated yearn, goes unchurned &

lets the man say to his woman
spent more money than I earned?

Wrote bad checks, wet pussy mine,
and in the end became a thief—

for this last I am a snake in the grass,
moaning at the girls’ bare ankles.

Published by: in Poetry, Volume 69, Volume 69: Issue 2

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