THE PILL VERSUS THE SPRINGHILL MINE DISASTER
for Richard Brautigan
Don’t blame me, I only killed
what I could not take care
of.
GISELLE OU LES WILIS
Roy Orbison has been crying
over your girl: her face
shapeless / her ass
hookless. His heart’s
in trochee—going
northwest to Philly /
a house bought—broke
mirror / its chips
pasted on outside
walls ston’d:
mirror the home w/
have’s & have not’s.
He throws a dance
party / watching Giselle
watch the dead killing
the dead / cemetery
built on rock
dancing ’til unborn
’til roots stem air
turning gold into
embers
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Joanna C. Valente is a MFA candidate in poetry writing at Sarah Lawrence College, where she is also a part-time mermaid. She founded and currently edits Yes, Poetry. She can be found at http://joannavalente.com.