Three Poems

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Inchoate work / the oven on, clicks / document the memory
of beginning / burst of bulb, flowers / vermillion / the jaw
the slew the scapula the spine trail of body / an obedient
vessel weeding the rain, like pennies for all Paulines. / Jesus
gracious cut it out I can’t keep up absurd you speak to me / a sayer
a doer a complicit imposter / a good new picture / seeds / doubt.

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Circling the immigrant’s breviary, a red-tailed hawk files it under ‘noon’,
necessary / reminds the M. that who lives, / laces the sea with thine own
/ that who seeks to at once flee himself / elevates herself. / A
balloon catching wind / the quotidian as windows / on romance / on

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1619, first cargo on the swollen St. James. Bill T. asks Who wants to talk
about slavery? Really who?
A little lace / some handsome / and I wanna big
delay / a meadow-drown overdose / a confluence of child, thickets, and high-
cal suppose. Will / I end with the going or the in it / the work or the mounted
moon? / Will we, the excuses we make, the stanzas we hew / cradle— . / Revise
the birch for its aspirin.

Mary-Catherine Jones (© 2012)