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About this poet

Art Zilleruelo received an MFA from Wichita State University and a PhD from Northeastern University. He is the author of The Last Map (Unsolicited Press, 2017) and Weird Vocation (Kattywompus Press, 2015).

Someone's Property

Ten planes exhaled contrails,
painting someone’s property lines
across a sky we thought was ours.

The sun surfaced,
and a checkerboard shadow
carved the city into hundredths
before the lattice loosened
and masked itself as clouds.

Now we walk divided, with memory
imposed upon the moment,
rays wandering a graph of absent shadow,
hoping to sidestep felony
as we move through these
unknowable territories.

Copyright © 2018 Art Zilleruelo. Used with permission of the author. This poem originally appeared in Hayden's Ferry Review, Fall-Winter 2017.

Copyright © 2018 Art Zilleruelo. Used with permission of the author. This poem originally appeared in Hayden's Ferry Review, Fall-Winter 2017.

Art Zilleruelo

Art Zilleruelo is the author of The Last Map (Unsolicited Press, 2017).

by this poet

poem

No family. Anything but that
distributed wave of same
blood, different bodies.

No friends. Let them find some other
pretext for hauling out the secret ledger,
for declaring one of their own
eliminated by the math.

Only our lawyer,
tramping through a field
with a napkin

poem

In a field near the lake
stands the ghost of a dead oak.
The ghost is black and very tall.
It never speaks or moves.
The sky wants to take it.
The earth wants to eat it.
But the ghost is strong, it does not want to move.
So it argues half its tongues into the dirt,
and grips

poem

But when the knife enters the trout,
there is not enough nothing in the blade
to spare the gills, not enough nothing
in the bright blood to keep the bucket water clear.