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Saturday, June 06, 2009

ON BEING ASKED, WHILE MAILING POEMS, WHETHER THESE PACKAGES CONTAIN ANYTHING POTENTIALLY HAZARDOUS

by William Orem


O my girl, you can’t be sure.
It could be just eruptive. What’s in this cool manila may

contain the spunk of Mt. Vesuvius , the hook
and thump of Tyson, with more teeth.

There may be wizardry in here
could turn your brain to curds

rend your hohum day beyond
     repair;

one word uniquely forged
or unexpected image sprung

upon you like a thousand thrashing adders.


     Or perhaps here’s gentler stuff,
     some quiet note.

     Perhaps

     to look in here
     you’d balk at simple 3:15

     falling cleanly through the afternoon
     and resting as it does
     upon a yellow desk

     beneath a young girl’s hand
     so perfect in its shape.

     I mean
     this light here,

resting on this very desk; I mean
     your simple
     outstretched hand.


William Orem's first collection of stories, Zombi, You My Love, won the GLCA New Writers Award, previously given to Sherman Alexie, Alice Munro, Louise Erdrich, and Richard Ford. His collection Across the River won the Texas Review Novella Prize and is being published this summer. Other stories and poems of his have appeared in over 100 publications, including The Princeton Arts Review, Alaska Quarterly Review, Sou'Wester and The New Formalist, and he has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize in both genres. His plays have been performed in Miami, Ft. Lauderdale, Louisville, Buffalo and Boston; currently he is Writer-in-Residence at Emerson College.
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