Childhood Memories of Sulphur Springs, Ohio

I wrap the old floorboards of my childhood home 
around me to keep warm. The pain of nails

digging into my back and the splinters combing my hair
bring on dreams of stillborn fawns rolling down steep hills

into sulfur rivers, of thirsty men swimming in coal fires, 
of women pulling large loaves of bread out of the ground,

of eyeless children smiling at a solar eclipse without a care in the world.

Kip Knott | The Politics of Hurricanes
Contents | Mudlark No. 50 (2013)