poets are dangerous, but this poet is explosive. "Powder speaks; dirt is mute."
I'm starting to feel uncomfortable.
Amy Beeder is the author of Burn the Field
(Carnegie Mellon University Press, 2006). Her poems have appeared in Poetry, Ploughshares, AGNI, Poetry Daily,
and The Nation
, among other journals. She teaches poetry at the University of New Mexico.
The Charges Are Stalking & Arson
The sizzlepop. The bang bang bang
. The air
a stage where cherrybombs & I play spark
to vacant lots; it’s nothing new, this tune
of Zippo click, of fuse, the blue-tip plume
on resin, weeds & shed, historic barns
exploding first in swallows. Don’t shush
Powder speaks: dirt is mute. If I’m denied
I’ll fire the lot; I’ll gladly woo with gas—
o love, my love’s a cuff-struck match, my suit
the fabric’s curl to petaled ash—take me,
, a realm of ether, atom-bright, a pause
before the flint’s quick kiss; take me—who else
can hear how shot glass sings the grass’s name;
how bale, dry & quiet, speaks its love to flame?
Poetry submissions are welcome. Email firstname.lastname@example.org. The whole Sunday Poem series is available from the front page of the DCF by clicking on The DitchRider in the left-hand sidebar. Poems early in the series are archived under "previous post" at the bottom of The DitchRider blog.