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About this poet

David Dodd Lee is the author of Animalities (Four Way Books, 2014). He teaches at Indiana University South Bend and lives in Osceola, Indiana.

Born Late

David Dodd Lee
A block of soap
carved to look like Pan

and that's just what came in the mail

a volcano under those flip flops

kisses spilling off the water-wheel

Green becomes a stillness leftover in the late-born effluence
of a decade's worth of smoke and flat beer

(I can't get any air)

because there was no acoustic guitar

just dust scraped off an anxious moth's wings

From The Nervous Filaments by David Dodd Lee. Copyright © 2010 by David Dodd Lee. Used by permission of Four Way Books. All rights reserved.

From The Nervous Filaments by David Dodd Lee. Copyright © 2010 by David Dodd Lee. Used by permission of Four Way Books. All rights reserved.

David Dodd Lee

David Dodd Lee is the author of Animalities (Four Way Books, 2014). He teaches at Indiana University South Bend and lives in Osceola, Indiana.

by this poet

poem

Large sea turtles and some whales
will outlive us, water a manifestation of wind in

   another dimension.
I had to use the shovel to hack at the wood, had to grab

a hatchet, down deep in the hole. The oak pitched around
like a ship’s mast, or I was no longer alive; perhaps I was

poem
My hand became my father's hand 
that day, 
for a second or two, as I lifted the fish, and I could feel his loneliness, 
my father's, like mine,

a horse in a stall spooked by guttering candles, 
the popping and black smoke, the quivering flanks.

And if a horse, in its loneliness, couldn't manage 
to
poem
It begins early, arc crumbling over the yard with its salt bird baths.
Then you dream of the banister gleaming, your hand
from atop the stairs gripping a tiny casket. Heat gathers above the
   local graveyard
that dusts so resolutely the young men's shoes with its flags.
This is where the shadows meet the white