EMILY AS A DEER HEART
I put my teeth to Emily.
I left an identifiable impression there.
All crimes committed
amidst that mythology
will carry my name with them.
This season, I hunted so lazily
& since I could not take a bite of her
with me, I knew that I would
have to write this poem until spring.
EMILY AS I DRINK THE RAIN FROM HER KNEES
It was Friday
& it hadn’t rained
for a month
in Columbus,
but I opened
my mouth
to manage
her flood
& I did so
on the back porch,
because I wanted
to taunt the sky.
She squirmed
to dance
& almost
said a prayer.
I couldn’t really
hear her.
EMILY AS I WRAP MYSELF IN HER BRUTALITY
I thought the real experiment
was to see if we could refuse
to ever transcend each other
& yet, Emily says that God
will divide us if I refuse to
say His outrageous names.
About the poet:
Darren Demaree’s poems have appeared, or are scheduled to appear, in numerous magazines/journals, including the South Dakota Review, Meridian, New Letters, Diagram, and the Colorado Review. He is the author of five poetry collections, most recently “The Nineteen Steps Between Us” (2016, After the Pause). He is Managing Editor of the Best of the Net Anthology and Ovenbird Poetry. He lives in Columbus, Ohio, with his wife and children.
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