the wax paper

THE FOURTH CHILD

 

When the liquid thickens

hope commands the action

be more than a light loam

 

& when the crop rises

from that too fertile ground

we cannot help consuming it.

 

JANUARY 22, 1931

 

Even the Mississippi Delta

possesses a caped heart

& everything that is used to

 

flooding, floods in joy

& deconstructs in joy

as well.  Some floods, though,

 

simply wash the legs

of a child clean 

& that is the opposite

 

of a shipwreck.  

That constant

ebb spreads to cape 

another heart, 

spreads to protect joy,

to let the man find song.

 

OUT OF THESE ELEMENTS

 

Eyes pour more hot

into the field

that never grows men,

 

but is always willing

to bury them

like expired seed.

 

The train whistle

buries men as well,

but that is a better story.

Darren C. Demaree is the author of five poetry collections, most recently The Nineteen Steps Between Us (2016, After the Pause). He is the Managing Editor of the Best of the Net Anthology. Currently, he is living in Columbus, Ohio with his wife and children.