“Tarp,” a poem by faculty member Rick Barot, appears online at Poetry Magazine.
I have seen the black sheets laid out like carpets
under the trees, catching the rainof olives as they fell. Also the cerulean brightness
of the one covering the bad roofof a neighbor’s shed, the color the only color
inside the winter’s weeks. Another onetook the shape of the pile of bricks underneath.
Another flew off the back of a truck,black as a piano if a piano could rise into the air.
I have seen the ones under bridges,the forms they make of sleep. I could go on
this way until the end of the page, even thoughwhat I have in my mind isn’t the thing
itself, but the category of belief that sees the thingas a shelter for what is beneath it.There is no shelter. You cannot put a tarp over …[Keep Reading]…