KYLE CRAWFORD

January 29, 2010

uh

Whisker vogue. Can you imagine red? A face swathing / sweat and fit on the seat / work with it. He’d spin over and rake. Dryin’em. To bale. To know all that. I can’t believe a cowboy had to follow trails all the way to Arizona oh-oh-oh. Do you climb? Do you / you die / shingling? Pitch of the pole shed / rained before rain. Say you say and me sound the seven real loud. Buck and stock’d recoil and be done / with it. All in an acre’s name. It’s north and it is east lined. Stink thick. Goosed / she was laughing and I was ci-yi-yip-yip-pe-ya-ing.


Silvics

It was the sound of one thousand

jake brakes in November. You’re

jumping your car. You’re calling your

mom. You’re having a baby. You’re

having a meeting. You’re meaning to

. Nothing quite like it, dude. Nothing

here means. Nothing, here means you have

ears too. Sometimes I can see your

laugh cartooning yourself when

your teeth bite your whole head and

you swallow your spit like everyone.

When I was eight years old my neighbor

had difficulty keeping his tongue in

his mouth. It was cracked. She told

him everything she knew about trees.

She told him a cottonwood’s twig’s a

cottonwood if you see a star inside

it(’)s breaking a part.

But I didn’t know not to call him a

retard back then, no I didn’t know

anything about that. I am a bored

child and was. Try to remember

the last time you spelled your

middle name or thought about the last

time you licked your arm and smelled.


oh

The Virginia reel or how much can a red dull? Again you fix the swather. Hear a virgule there albeit a ladies saddle / alfalfa bale anyhow / dainty sate. How you realized it was wrenched wrong. See this nail is an unclassifiable penny nail. It builds / a bluff’s pride in 1854. Quench .03”. Some snakes are supposed to be able to enter a hen house and suck eggs. That’s a Jesus made of mule hair. Sometimes I think / I think she lacked me colostrum. It’s takes its too slow. That mason’s name was Mike Horn but you called him Horn Dog.


Kyle Crawford currently lives in Nebraska. He is employed by the State of Nebraska where he pushes papers around a desk (It’s a mess!). After thousands of services coordinated by Kyle for assigned juvenile delinquents, he is patiently awaiting his next destination: MFA, USA. After a two year deflation upon graduating from the University of Nebraska in 2007, Kyle is ready to pursue his dreams of making no money writing poetry, as opposed to supplementing his poetry writing with state aided employment.

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