Mississippi Suite

by Sterling Plumpp | Mon Jan 14 2013

1.
I have crossed over some
where I can buy a cross
road map For mummified worlds with
in words I invent

This
river wants me to jine a crap
game in its hind pocket
books of Clinton Wants me
to make my pallet in still
waters of its chilly arms Wants me

This
river reminds me of my grand
father’s groan    My grand
mother’s   “Do Lords Do Lord    Do
remember mes”    This place offers
the ambiguity of a second
handed prayer in a foreign
legionnaire’s boot
prints on a baby’s skull

Davenport
opens its arms Opens my wounds
with memory The river is
its voice

This work is part of

Issue 143, Winter/Spring 2013

Filed Under

Poetry

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