And Then It Rains

By KAREN CHASE

See the trace of someone’s hand
in the shorn branches, the tangle
of trees past the flat lawn.

The composed yard—
fence, wall, dark shape
of cypress, vanishing elm form.
All the ways we shape and carve—
yards, religion, plans,
sonnets, villanelles,
seasons, days of the week,
times for meals, windows,
doors, frames—all
built and named things—
streets, numbers, cities.
Run, I say, to the jungly
woods, take in the animated
dirt, eat with your hands. Later on,
go home, lunch at noon, switch
direction, mow the lawn. Along, then,
comes the wild rainy world, call it beauty,
wind corrupting the grassy yard.

 

[Purchase Issue 12 here.]

Karen Chase is the author of two collections of poems, Kazimierz Square and BEAR, as well as Jamali-Kamali, a book-length homoerotic poem which takes place in Mughal India. Her third book of prose, FDR on His Houseboat: The Larooco Log, 1924-1926, is forthcoming in 2016.

And Then It Rains

Related Posts

Mesquite plant

July 2021 Poetry Feature: Burlin Barr

BURLIN BARR
but the wolf tree was there and there was a place where // trophies hung: entire / bodies slung there in semi permanence // turning into everything / imaginable between a fresh body and shit and a variety // of trash; except Otis; he kept his right in front / of the house even

Recife, Brazil

Translation: Poems by Lara Solórzano Damasceno

LARA SOLÓRZANO DAMASCENO
Nosotras, who for millennia have steered warships, / sailing through seas made invisible. / Nosotras, who walked barefoot through valleys of stinging nettle, had our name ripped from the book of history / our biography from the scientific treatises

Ice fishing

June 2021 Poetry Feature

CORRIE WILLIAMSON
You lamented the absence of a human sound for longing, / like the loon has, like the wolf. I think of you reading / to your donkey the day he died, the passage where Odysseus / kisses the soil, how the beast moved away from you, / stood quietly in the clover, then returned...