Carolyn Guinzio
Crisis Of
You can spot-lose faith
some even in the fifties
they say hide when mother
approaches the nineties many
days the deep end awaits you
going off to the Devils
Den to be seen again grey
as a ghost pulled back
by force Meanwhile
in Arkansas faith takes
the form of burying
things in unincorporated
parts of the county sending
into slender fingers of land
beyond the reach of the law
passed to annex the burn
barrel and castle ordinance
ordnance burned on the fourth
in a window of hours not window
so much as mere open air
Take It Back
The mailbox is full
and not able to accept
a stick bug trucking so
we swear it wasn't there
five minutes ago we used
up our last re-use the one
you used for the bread
Meanwhile in Arkansas
the primary care doctor
is sticking to her story
full of those are not holes
breaking off pieces of
the unreliable narrator
only meant to stick you
with a bill for nil and no
sense in trying anymore
not to break off the twigs
are not limbs bent in
the back of an empty box
Carolyn Guinzio's most recent collection is A Vertigo Book (The Word Works, 2021), winner of The Tenth Gate Prize and Gold Medal winner for the Foreword Indies Award for Poetry Book of the Year. Earlier collections include Spoke & Dark (Red Hen, 2012), winner of the To The Lighthouse/A Room Of Her Own Prize, and the visual poems Ozark Crows (Spuyten-Duyvil, 2018). Her work has appeared in The New Yorker, The Nation, Poetry and many other journals. Her poetry films have been screened at festivals throughout the world, including the Cadence Festival, where her film was a jury award winner. Her website is carolynguinzio.tumblr.com
Return to November 2022 Edition
You can spot-lose faith
some even in the fifties
they say hide when mother
approaches the nineties many
days the deep end awaits you
going off to the Devils
Den to be seen again grey
as a ghost pulled back
by force Meanwhile
in Arkansas faith takes
the form of burying
things in unincorporated
parts of the county sending
into slender fingers of land
beyond the reach of the law
passed to annex the burn
barrel and castle ordinance
ordnance burned on the fourth
in a window of hours not window
so much as mere open air
Take It Back
The mailbox is full
and not able to accept
a stick bug trucking so
we swear it wasn't there
five minutes ago we used
up our last re-use the one
you used for the bread
Meanwhile in Arkansas
the primary care doctor
is sticking to her story
full of those are not holes
breaking off pieces of
the unreliable narrator
only meant to stick you
with a bill for nil and no
sense in trying anymore
not to break off the twigs
are not limbs bent in
the back of an empty box
Carolyn Guinzio's most recent collection is A Vertigo Book (The Word Works, 2021), winner of The Tenth Gate Prize and Gold Medal winner for the Foreword Indies Award for Poetry Book of the Year. Earlier collections include Spoke & Dark (Red Hen, 2012), winner of the To The Lighthouse/A Room Of Her Own Prize, and the visual poems Ozark Crows (Spuyten-Duyvil, 2018). Her work has appeared in The New Yorker, The Nation, Poetry and many other journals. Her poetry films have been screened at festivals throughout the world, including the Cadence Festival, where her film was a jury award winner. Her website is carolynguinzio.tumblr.com
Return to November 2022 Edition