- Justin Hyde
Justin Hyde, 2 poems

this morning as we walk along the iowa river
she wants a promise of forever.
i want to tell her: if your ex-husband put down the bottle
i think you would go back to him; the way we sometimes spend
all day arguing about a speck of dust in a pot of gold exhausts me;
the way you treat waiters-waitresses—& your own children
terrifies me; all these things ossify
my mind
into an ineffable equation
yielding uncertainty.
i want to put all that
in the palm of my hand
gently blow it
into her ear.
but i’ve learned
my words
are often scalpels.
so i bend down
pick up a flat purple rock
off the sandbar:
one-two-three-four
it skips
over clear
water.
—Justin Hyde
you-gorgeous strange-life
full of words like:
cozen
coxswain
& dragoon:
thumb-nail moon
dappled moon
three-sixty moon savage as owl:
indonesian women
southern women
midwestern women:
hearts like
teepees
thighs like seals
in a polar bear’s
jaw.
—Justin Hyde