National Poetry Month: HISTORICAL DOCUMENTS by Kelly Forsythe
by Kelly Forsythe
I am writing an autobiography of myself as
a man. I want to use the word “excavate” here
but I’ll use “imagining” instead, as in / you see me imagining
deep unconscious feelings of manliness. Doesn’t
everyone love tan shoulders? Doesn’t
the wind feel good when you rush
into it—even in Port Townsend when
the stars drop out of hiding into the black
net sky / it is catching it is
freezing & I’m sunburned.
Meditation hasn’t worked. We are writing
about the things we’re afraid of. Your arms /
your arms / you’re giving everything away
This poem is from issue 39.1. You may purchase a copy here.