Mar/Apr 2022 • Vol. XLIV No. 2 PoetryMarch 2, 2022 |

Every Ending Should Make a Sound

Fur should make a sound, pursing lips should. When a pupil dilates or a chimney swift dives. The urn, full of what a person was. Paint, old wool, the mountain. We should. Every reliquary, every fault, every grave should make a sound. Vines of how they hold up the ruin. All the people who were here with us and now aren’t. Dark should. This room. Dirt about what it knows of what’s now in the urn. Lines as they break the edges of a mouth. Any last day spent alone.

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By Mikey Swanberg

Fur should make a sound, pursing lips should. When a pupil dilates or a chimney swift dives. The urn, full of what a person was. Paint, old wool, the mountain. […]

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