CALAMITY
put a live shiner out for you
watched it from a deer stand
turns out you weren’t
fooled by it
turns out you are
lightin those firecrackers
next to the mulberry bushes
and eatin those mushrooms
that been growin on our tree
I got this
feelin like
I’m gonna die
in a car,
drivin or otherwise
eatin oranges
to get that
smell off my hand
none of the glasses
breakin clean tonight
eatin oranges
on the porch
lettin the rinds
pile up between
my dusty feet
lettin the flies
have at em
lettin the moon
soak the frontyard
thinkin about
buildin that fence
tomorrow
layin out
in the moonlight
lettin the chiggers
have at me
and my flesh
just feels good
to have something
mouth on me
I breathe heavy
to let em know
where I like it
the bites
like hickeys
from high school
lovers with the doors open
stepping lightly
on their parents’
heads fuckin
on the trampoline
under this same
moon with the same
bugs singin the same
eyes leakin the same
chinese food the same
aftertaste
thirteen hundred
and ten miles
door to door
just shy of twenty
hours on highways
all of em I been on
before ask me
I say it’s
spittin distance
with a little
hot brown
in the cup holder
and this here moon
on the hood our
organs know well
enough well they
fought on it before
in the august sun
in davidson county
after my brother’s
weddin
coffee rings on
everything I own
has scuffs and is
missin somethin
im missin somethin
can’t be hunted down
in the city with its red
mouths that open and
close the statues
made of marble
and buried in the parks
that don’t talk back
when you ask em questions
and you close your eyes
and open em and you
see those fairies dancin
on dark islands
in wheat fields
said a soldier’s prayer
out there in the front
yard put my head
on the rock that looks
like a surgeon’s table
the sweat from my cheek
left a puddle the shape
of your birthmark
Connor Crawford was born and raised in Memphis, Tennessee. He moved to New Orleans to attend Tulane University where he was awarded the Senior Achievement in Creative Writing Prize, as well as a fellowship to A Studio In The Woods. His poetry and fiction have appeared in various small outlets. He now resides in Brooklyn.