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Samuel Amadon

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Samuel Amadon

Samuel Amadon is the author of The Hartford Book (Cleveland State University Poetry Center, 2012). He teaches at the University of South Carolina and lives in Columbia, South Carolina

by this poet


What people said, what left the table dark.
None stayed inside the house, nor close around.
Each direction its direction bound.
Like when you leave the arcing


I think I think of what I want en masse,
as concrete thinks it wants the overpass—

while wind and broken glass want heavy rains,
Los Angeles I want across the plains.

I hear myself collecting what I’ve caught,
like “in the hospital and you’ve been shot.”

As time so


Imagine apple orchards without trees
was not a dream. How do you make make do?
Some conversations lead to more like few.
Like thoughtful absence, yes. Then fingers keys.
Like turning eavesdrop into speech with please
excuse, at times I find the self see-through.
Here one who captions