Today's poem is by Hannah Stephenson
Curb Your God
Gravitate to the shore, to the edges
of land. Go to the water, go in it,
fall off the globe. California ends,
disintegrates: loose soil, sand, saltwater.
This is where we play, at the fringe,
in the rubble. Our country, the bear rug.
We crawl toward its claws, feel for
the floor in the darkness beneath it.
No dogs, the sign says, but here
in the waves, a black dog. He bucks
toward dry sand, notched branch in
his jaws. Mouth antlers. A ruler
between his teeth. Look what I found
for you, he would shout out if he could,
and lunges toward his human carrying
a devotion so huge that the world tilts.
Copyright © 2013 Hannah Stephenson All rights reserved
from In the Kettle, the Shriek
Gold Wake Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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