Kentucky Sonnet, poem by Chris Prewitt

Down past the moon­lit bell tow­er
Down past the road that ends at a moun­tain

I come to know my body
pre­pared to lose every­thing

Father if I wore your blue suit to your funer­al
I don’t remem­ber

I met strange women with dark hair
suck­ing the roots of a sug­ar maple

I had strange ideas and nude iris­es
drown­ing in the milk of a star that I nudged

my mouth dark with dirt
my small ruby

held in the heart of a hornet’s nest
am I some­one you’d choose to know?

ÿÿ

Christo­pher Prewitt's a writer from south­east­ern Ken­tucky. His writ­ing has been nom­i­nat­ed for the Best of the Net Anthol­o­gy and the Push­cart Prize, and has appeared in Four Way Review, the­New­erY­ork, Ghost Ocean Mag­a­zine, Vinyl, The Iowa Review, and Rat­tle, among oth­ers.

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One Response to Kentucky Sonnet, poem by Chris Prewitt

  1. Richard Martin says:

    Many mys­ter­ies & beau­ties.
    "the road that ends at a moun­tain"
    "suck­ing the roots of a sug­ar maple"
    "nude iris­es
    drown­ing in the milk of a star"
    "my small ruby
    held in the heart of a hornet’s nest"

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