Glen Armstrong holds an MFA in English from the University of Massachusetts, Amherst and teaches writing at Oakland University in Rochester, Michigan. He edits a poetry journal called Cruel Garters and has three recent chapbooks: Set List (Bitchin Kitsch,) In Stone and The Most Awkward Silence of All (both Cruel Garters Press.) His work has appeared in Poetry Northwest, Conduit and Cream City Review.
Who is the most
spiritual amongst us?
Jeepers.
That’s a tough one.
I was raised on the stuff.
I can shake
my tambourine
with the best of them,
but I get why
others might contemplate
rivers that unravel
like snagged hems
of ancient wedding
dresses or calculate
the chances of life
on a frigid planet.
I get why the children
play wiffle ball
in the churchyard
every Saturday evening
until the sun sets
and tints the clouds some
color perfect for an as yet
undiscovered soda pop.
And then it comes walking
sideways down the street
like a broken dog
not love,
but a gush of confusion
that might lead to love
if it doesn’t lead
to more confusion first.
Curse it or poke it with a stick.
Not quick enough.
It’s already inside you.
And then it blooms
like a wildflower.
Soon, an actual broken dog
is sniffing the hem of your dress.
Soon, the thistle is blooming
for you and the King
of Stink Bug Street.
Children sing songs about you
that intrigue their younger siblings.
Submission guidelines: http://cruelgarters.cruelgarters.com