- Judyth Hill from "Wage Peace"
How the morning meets us matters.
A crazy quilt met mine.
I woke with a pigeon’s view of Easter
processing down Peachtree.
What’s so crazy about a blanket?
Pieced like family jewels
from denim jacket, brocade skirt -
my clan spread eagle.
Truth is - juntas stalk regimes
with kudzu enterprise.
They’d freeze time to collect enough
arms, legs and testicles.
What’s amiss with coup d’état?
Glorious in stealth,
they bring justice home by its scruff,
savor the spoils like Hampshire boars.
Luck finds the writer who consummates
work with good whiskey.
Good and bad saturated Thomas.
Catlin's fire matched his muse.
Nothing kindles like lust and duty
to goddess and queen -
purple robe lifted by salt wind,
her ruddy fuse goading the tide.