Karyna McGlynn Poems

the live oak over the nursery got a disease
they could only save one limb
it wasn't surprising; it wasn't that kind of nursery
...

It's no wonder I'm always tired with all these tract houses—
It's night & cold
on my belly in the undeveloped field now
...

the termites had deboned the thing
it was clean there was no saving it

in one bedroom a dresser with blue drawers
...