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  • Cold Comfort to Doom
  • Sandra Meek (bio)

No crops to sow. No shocks. No cobs, no corn'sdown floss. No cock's crow. No storms

to grow. No cool to morn. No blood to spot; no flocksof cotton bolls to lop. No flocks. No loons,

no motmots, no crows. No brook to ford, no floodto drown: no ghost woods. No clots

of snow. No cordwood to stow. No moss. No north.No woods. No fork not to follow: no Frost.

No Wordsworth. No Woolworth's. No worthto show. No stockroom's goods to sort—top-notch,

so-so: no town blocks to loot. No mob. No loss. No doorto lock. No room to mop. No door. No room. No ghost

to spoon. No slow songs, dolor-thrown: no sobs.No throngs, no boss. No cooks to bog

the broth. No roots. No roost. No owls, no storks,no coots. No fox. No coop. No slop

to toss. No hot blood to cool, no coldto school. No cool cloth. No pods' slow bloom

to moths. No hopscotch, no workbook. No pompoms,no hotshot jocks, no proms. No rock. No roll. No knoll

to mow. No boom-box to boost, no rooftop croon—noroofs. No horns to toot. No blow. No stock

to prod, no cows' long low. No portfor fools, no storm-shook moon: no months [End Page 141]

of monsoons. No ghost not grown. No trolls. No goldnot to own. No torts, no pro bono work: no job

lost. No to, no from. No mood control. No too hotfor wool. No too smog for sport. No cogs, no

logs to roll. No foothold lost. No hook, no crook:no dog. No wolf. No clop of hoofs, no boom

of boots: no door to knock. No clock. No good oddsto blow. No vows—no slow morph to dolls

of drool. No broth to cool. No bowl. No spoon.No food for gods, for ghosts. No food

for compost. No worms to sod. No woodwork'sbox. No plot to own. No tooth to sow, no sooth

to toll: no torso. No blogs to scroll. No goodbook to gloss. No on, no off. No wrong,

no not. No too hot to trot. No cold cock. No who.No whom. No thorn of moon. No London fog, no horns

on loop. No Boston snow to slog. No stoop. No Oz,no om, no O2 lost. No no-show good god

to cross. No crown. No thorns. No tockfrom womb to tomb. No slow

soft rot. No blood to own. No bomb not goodto go. No shock. No glow. No

blossom blown. No good world nownot flown. [End Page 142]

Sandra Meek

SANDRA MEEK has published six books of poems, including Still, forthcoming from Persea in January 2020, An Ecology of Elsewhere, Road Scatter, and the Dorset Prize–winning Biogeography. Recipient of an NEA Fellowship in Poetry, the Poetry Society of America's Lucille Medwick Memorial Award, three Georgia Author of the Year awards, and two Peace Corps Writers awards, she teaches at Berry College.

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