Two Poems
by Daneen Wardrop
hoop
see a possum, sadder than seeing
they practice all the time, it doesn’t help—
inside-out feces and ammonia
flange the big death
smell, the rims are its heart
guess where I’m going
you-there, I hoop
my body through itself
it’s not you
talk-note
it’s slower than rain but shinier
than rain-smell is beets and chlorox
Gam looks out the kitchen window
and I pull on her, pull on her
hem-dress, the one with aubergine flowers
you can’t pick them
a storm joggles all the rooms in a meadow
the meadow rises, talk-notes get grainier,
grainier, so no one intones much
it keeps the hill a hill—
