photo by maja trochimczyk
Rick Marlatt teaches English in Nebraska. He has BAs in English and Philosophy and a MA in Creative Writing from the University of Nebraska, and he is currently pursuing a MFA in Creative Writing from the University of California Riverside at Palm Desert. Marlatt's most recent publications include The Pedestal Magazine, Barnwood International Poetry, and Superstition Review. Marlatt performs as an actor, poet, and writer, most recently, winning the University of Nebraska Sigma Tau Delta Short Fiction Slam.
I remember feeling guilty for
coming alive that morning.
There was a conspiracy to
hide it all from the crows,
in the bitter air's shards, not even
my breath was a secret.
A jackknifed cold ached in the knees
of the ear-muffed service men
and punished their lips with
every shrill into important trumpets,
hoarfrost like barbed wire wrenched
white around each blade of grass.
Always wondered why a man
they said hated trees
went down for good in a casket bordered
with silver evergreens,
a crow's eye glossed obsidian,
the only time I saw my father cry.