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3′ x 9.999˝
From Issue 53, The Portland/Brooklyn Issue, a reminder of why we love our Portland poets, even after they leave.
3′ x 9.999˝
Remarking remarks on a peg republic of wall, I can resist
my own weight on braided wire. Double it, in the eggy heath.
Tinny whack to the dowel, occurring flat oil spread I fend for,
spooling cable rescue lowered to all red ants of the carpet world.
I take the rework of counterfeit ruin, and his stagger too of blue
bowl water wrung into canal and grid-plate grottoes I say I visited
as a child, to my knees in the dirty stand. The bathymetric
winters’ thaw and remove of eight, nine block-fields then got seed-
heads triggering green in my pocket and next to the outlet mall.
I can see clear to no orchard and find I am one freestone poor
a decree of potatoes. In the outer lane the lamb lady will not be
my friend, I dug the slaw she planted deep into last year and shovel
skewered her sedum, darkly. I owe everyone pay in plenty.
Keep the middle full, my mother say when I see my quandary,
and full herself. I know, I know, Mother, claw hammer nickel caked
and levered wrong-end nails in my mouth where I say it.
Jae Choi‘s poems have been published in Tin House, The Iowa Review, and elsewhere. A sometime Portland resident, in 2009, she received an Oregon Literary Fellowship for poetry. She now lives in Los Angeles, California. Her latest work can be found on The Song Cave.