Book of Coffantree VI

 

A woman near the subway entrance

grabs your arm.

 

For two dollars she will tell you

what you're afraid of.

 

You're not in a hurry. You laugh, Okay.

You don't usually carry cash so it must be a sign.

 

She says, You can still see a drunk boy

almost-drown in a trough. You can still hear

 

crying through half-chewed bedding &

you still anticipate the twist,

 

your father's hand wringing your wrist

as you try to explain.



Shannon Hardwick's work has appeared, or is forthcoming, in Gulf Coast, Salamander Magazine, Frontier Poetry, MAGMA Poetry, The Texas Observer, Four Way Review, The Missouri Review, and Passages North, among others. Hardwick serves as the poetry editor for The Boiler Journal.

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