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“but the world is full of troubles and I have not much reason to think myself pestered with many” by Sue Chenette
From Issue 37: Spring 2017
news sacked in wet plastic on the porch the maple bare last night I trailed an elk sleep-teetered from tussock into muddy runnel she bounded off can the world tell us how to wed it I’d like some article of faith welded to my brain-bone – cast iron copper sheerest organdy a peck of pickled peppers clear black ink – or send at least Keats’ sparrow before my window to set the day to rights.



