April Poetry | South

South

— Carla Stanley —

Marty Graw
Sister Purse of the Clasped Hands
Queen of the Leaning Mean
part party part zydeco
she’ll go out with the bad the good or her own flow
and be the dream you’ll not wake with nor sleep in
part zebra part windstorm
she’s born of a cloud filled mother
and fathers an ebb flood tide
riding the back of cars on tracks to collide
inside she’s a second cupped luck
rabid sea horse stuck
sitting sunlight glass cracked
on a homestead smack in the center
of an elliptical universe
Mary go round and let the dog out hair flowing shout
from here to there
the kind of woman you’ll want to leave
and coming back will never
be the sane