In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

50 the minnesota review Bruce Bond Weight It could be morning and the newly dead detonate like birds, nothing on my back but a cold press of sunlight, the night's heft there behind me, tethered to my waist. Stubborn that way, the night, loaded down with stony cloud on cloud and bad sleep. A wonder clouds don't tumble to the earth. Today I have a mind of mud and bear it doggedly into class, lifting up a poem from its page to see what life beats there, to listen to the music beneath the ghost of meaning, the near voice of a strong black gate swinging open into question, as if only something so acquainted with its leaving could speak to me in day's confusion, take what's missing on its back, release the body from its ties and say, it's OK, let the night rest there in its shoes ofwater, soon there will be other nights, let themfind you, let them call you out for thefirst time as the stranger that you are. ...


Additional Information

Print ISSN
p. 50
Launched on MUSE
Open Access
Back To Top

This website uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience on our website. Without cookies your experience may not be seamless.