So often
We are

Out on it—
To imagine

The day any
Different than
We hoped it

Might be,
The forth-
Springing world

Our chests
To the insight

Of midnight
Coweled over
The front yard

& a stranger
It through sheets

Of rain, back & forth
With dead chickens
Drooped in his hands.

Where lightning bursts
Translate back into
A timorous & glottal

Language, quaking
Lusters that lace
The dark sky, in

& out & ever almost,
As all of it vanishes
Before our eyes

Front page image by eirikso

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Alex Lemon

About the Author

Alex Lemon is the author of Happy: A Memoir, and the poetry collections Mosquito, Hallelujah Blackout and Fancy Beasts. A book of essays and a new poetry collection are forthcoming from Milkweed Editions. His writing has appeared in Esquire, The Huffington Post, Best American Poetry 2008, Satellite Convulsions, Tin House, Kenyon Review, AGNI, The Southern Review and jubilat, among others. Among his awards are a 2005 Literature Fellowship in Poetry from the National Endowment for the Arts and a 2006 Minnesota Arts Board Grant. He is a frequent book reviewer for the Dallas Morning News. He lives in Ft. Worth, Texas, and teaches at TCU. He is and tweets as @Alxlemon.
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