Originally published in Split This Rock.

I can write a poem
to the limbs of a grandmother
seeded in a scorched field
where her house stood
before the drone

I can write as her left arm singing
to its hand
Calm now, she’s gone

Some man
I’m almost certain
it’s a man
can write a memo
about this field
left foot tapping impatiently

His memo isn’t a poem
but who said it had to be

-Kevin Simmonds 

Originally published in Bend to It. Used by permission.

Kevin Simmonds is a writer and musician originally from New Orleans. His books include the full-length collections Bend to it (Salmon Poetry, 2014) and Mad for Meat (Salmon Poetry, 2011), and the edited works Ota Benga Under my Mother’s Roof (University of South Carolina, 2012) and Collective Brightness: LGBTIQ Poets on Faith, Religion & Spirituality (Sibling Rivalry Press,  2011).