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  • Caroline Crew

Two Poems

I’m not even your peach in Georgia

even a peach pit has a little poison in it

all the fruit I love leeches

say I don’t want

I don’t want

I don’t want babies in a cherry basket

Do you remember the South Carolina peach butt?

It was a water tower.

Gaffney. On I-85.

you have one coy feeling

pitched back in the morning a kind of antique

how classic is repeated when I dye blonde

classic American Old Spice classic

the classic American road trip

We can’t talk about coke.

Because we lived in Atlanta?

sell a scent I don’t expect

chemical homongeny the American dream

a nonorganic orgy over vanilla

You never wear perfume anyway

Well I remember what’s dead in it.

When we lived in Atlanta you said

I don’t appreciate the fun in beauty

I was pissing on an apple tree, how is that not both?

I slash a black marker across a thrifted painting

leaving a friendly chasm in the trees

there’s an orchard

one or two creatures one or two human creatures

a certain gold light lazy on some bark

and the hole I have made

a portal to get out


It’s cute you think you left the farm

take a girl out of…

It’s cute you mark territory

like a dog

Occasional Poem

a thousand daffodils / to save your canon / O

hills the hills a rolling / no eyes / I forget

to be appropriate / jaundice the eye peak /

or call it blossoming / to bloom / the false

logic / to bloom in opposition to breaking /

a dandelion licks concrete / that’s a symbol /

that’s you / and you can do better / you can

bloom / follow those double yellow lines /

I double / a false positive / an organ

for judging / a criterion / criteria for hope /

when I fill a vessel with yellow flowers

someone will say / a riot of colour /

my riot is not a threat / judas is painted

in yellow /soured light /given in a kiss/

a thousand youtube videos / to get the gold

out of your hair / a cool blonde / a cool

girl /criteria for kowtowing your natural

urges / bulb in the snow / the bowl smashed

to the sidewalk / small flower crushed

in the book read in childhood /a blossoming

made virile / made useful / a riot of colour /

in my vessel / my vex / investing in richer

shades / against the marble wall / nothing

splits / oak tree through concrete /

there is a kind of power / a thousand

daffodils can’t coward /candescent can-can/

the call of criteria cankered / the light

not yellowed / but gleaming

Caroline Crew is the author of PINK MUSEUM (Big Lucks, 2015), as well as several chapbooks. Her poetry and essays appear or are forthcoming in Conjunctions, DIAGRAM, and Gulf Coast, among others. Currently, she is pursuing a PhD at Georgia State University, after earning an MA at the University of Oxford and an MFA at UMass-Amherst. She's online here:

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