Edited by Blas Falconer | Amy Wright
Featured Selection / Poetry
Either Way You’re Done
A bolt of lightning moving down the sky
is enough. The plastic smell
of conditioned air
and the tick-tick of my dog
breathing beside me—
I was not always this___.
A grizzly in Yellowstone
digs under rocks to find
cutworm moths—spots like still eyes.
The moths fly up when disturbed,
and land in swarms on the bear’s arms.
He licks them from his fur, the dust of their wings
covering his tongue.
He watches squirrels stash pine-nuts
so he can steal them just before hibernating. The diet
is elk calf after waking,
then salmon, the moths, and finally
There are few inconsistencies here.
I have imagined what it would be like,
and decided I would want to be ripped,
too—to know you. You worry
this might not be normal. I say
you run the risk of burning
when you breathe that hard.
Table of Contents
David Dodd Lee
Joan I Siegel
Rachel Hall Kirk