Liz McGehee



Upslope as Loving as You Can


Over the course of the year, the paths of the
moon   are   measured   in   cancer   flowing
through the  body  &  homes  that  cover no
one.  You  want  to  believe  we're safe,  but
both  of  us   are   earth  signs   coupled   in
disaster.   We  are   cat  missing   since  the
storm,  too,  forms  thrown away,  blooming
against  the  moon.  You  said  this  was  the
resurrection,   a  way   to  see  the  lord.  In
marshland I know I am not an animal, nor a
walking  apparatus—for  this  reason I live in
southern longer—bending & bloodblind.

                                                                                                                                                                        


End of the World Saloon


The oldest bar in america is the backseat of
my  rusted  out  ford.  Once,  our  laughter
filled these plains, a fierceness that pierced
our chests. In the winter, you are fine with
long   walks  &  growing  on  the  inside  &
maybe even sonarprayer. A mission for my
retirement:   install   beautiful   spittoon.  I
wanted to know the snakecatchers, too, but
without you. I  shared  my clothing  with  a
human shape outside your house. The way
to fill a crack is so healthy now; I'm doing it
all wrong.





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