(listen to the poem, read by the author)
The sun is a volcano. Leaves take lava
and make the flesh I am made of
is the story I dumb down for myself.
The gases I inhale fuel my footsteps.
When my mind is blank, I drag my battered
feet through the cut grass. My feet are deep
thinkers. Language flows from the sun
and the leaves, not me. What am I? I am a slice
of deli meat merely and look, a hawk
swings in lofty circles above my morning rounds.
About the Author
Cameron Morse (he, him) is Senior Reviews editor at Harbor Review and the author of eight collections of poetry. His first collection, Fall Risk, won Glass Lyre Press’s 2018 Best Book Award. His latest is The Thing Is (Briar Creek Press, 2021). He holds an MFA from the University of Kansas City-Missouri and lives in Independence, Missouri, with his wife Lili and three children. For more information, check out his Facebook page or website.