Lizz Murphy — Poem 137: Before we subscribe you

BEFORE WE SUBSCRIBE YOU

Before we subscribe you we need to confirm you are a human A fire cloud rises above the black of trees it is only sunset still some are afraid Prussian spills into the cracks splits and spits sheep crowd the foreground mauve stretches across generations a lone farmer a lone horse I am not a robot Chimney remnants laud over the rock face the rock and roll Subscribe to list Last straws the broken camel’s back dislodged possum lodgers spiders stilt walking across the stove