by Paul Muldoon

I WAS PINNED ON THE HARD SHOULDER
MY HEART WEIGHED DOWN BY A BOULDER
THAT EASTER SUNDAY AFTERNOON
MADDIE PULLED UP LIKE A GODDESS
IT LOOKED FROM HER LOW – CUT BODICE
HER TAN WAS NOT WITHOUT ITS UNDERTONES
THE LITTLE GRAVEL – SPURT
WHERE SHE KICKED UP SOME DIRT
WHEN WE TOOK OFF ABRUPTLY FOR A SPIN
BRAND NEW SKINS HER ’69 MONTEGO WEARING THIN
HER ’69 MONTEGO’S BRAND NEW SKINS

IN HER HOUSE THE EASTER REVELS
FUNCTIONED ON SO MANY LEVELS
AS WE SNUCK UP TO HER BEDROOM
PAST A CHOCOLATE LABRADOR
DOING SOMETHING PRETTY HARDCORE
TWO IGUANAS IN A TERRARIUM

MADDIE WOULD APPOINT
HERSELF TO ROLL A JOINT
FROM AN BALKAN SOBRANIE CIGARETTE TIN
BRAND NEW SKINS HER HAND – ME – DOWN TOBACCO WEARING THIN
HER HAND – ME – DOWN TOBACCO’S BRAND NEW SKINS

WE SUCKED SOME FACE
AND SHELTERED EACH OTHER
FROM THE TERRIBLE DIN
OF HER DAD ON VINTAGE BASS
AND HER KID BROTHER
PLAYING BRAND NEW SKINS

MY HEART WAS NOW QUITE UNLADEN
MADDIE WAS THE KIND OF MAIDEN
WHOSE SENSE OF SIN WAS A SINE QUA NON
IT SEEMED ALMOST SHE WAS PURGING
HERSELF BEFORE RE – EMERGING
THAT EASTER SUNDAY AFTERNOON
NOW HER CHOCOLATE LAB
FROTTED ITS WASHBOARD ABS
I USED THE TERM SHIT – EATING OF ITS GRIN
BRAND NEW SKINS HER RAGGED – ASSED IGUANAS WEARING THIN
HER RAGGED – ASSED IGUANAS’ BRAND NEW SKINS

by Jody Gladding

Ash
            say ash     a fire laid
                          with three logs
                          because a fire must have

            something     to aspire to
                                  third log on top                      to catch

                                  this silence

                                               the fire needs to burn
                                               the fire needs to burn
                                                                                  up

            sometime I’m just split wood
                sometimes I’m what’s caught
                                    a quiet thing

                                                                         trying to say
                                                                                     ash
                                                                                     again

                                                                                                   ash

                                                                     burned into a split log
                                                                     7 x 15½ x 3 inches

by Jody Gladding

          to read this
                      I have to gather          the pages

              it’s called a signature

                it’s a book I’m
                                            working on the land

                     is posted

                     the spine is broken

      I’m writing its name

              in my own          hand

                                                                      ink on strips of bark
                                                                        6 x 18 inches

by Jody Gladding

Yes nesting but you didn’t come here
      for a sign
            in the slate there’s a deeper
                  question you can call
                        into     it’s a slow exchange
                              snow          melt
                                    I don’t think the rock’s a woman
                                          but the way this wall bleeds
                                                while you wait you can try to eat
a flake or two
      the task is mineral
            wasn’t that what you had in mind
                  when slate breathes you notice
                        the chill it’s a hundred years
                              since the quarry’s been
                                    worked     so
                                          time to plan
                                                well you can unearth
                                                      a pillow it’ll weigh
you     down          feathers
      couldn’t lift a wing
            if they weren’t hollow
                  listen
                        old element I may be
                              making this up —

                                                                               ink on an egg
                                                                               2½ x 1½ inches