The Extremities are the First The dam gates slam shut, as this side of the lake shrinks, our backyard cove calcifying like a bony finger. The extremities are the usually the first to go; Things down-river, down-hill, down-wind. In East Palestine they need answers; lungs and eyes still burning, as tons of toxic waste are trucked away; A place just outside my nephew’s town supposedly so remote, it’s sure to be an ideal dumping place. Here, a new city ordinance just passed, as downtown tents, carts and sleeping-pads are packed, carted off by city trucks, as now it’s deemed illegal for the homeless to be seen. We drive the golf cart down into the gullies, veering onto emerging peninsulas, spinning sand. A desert iguana escapes the talons of a hawk by abandoning its tail; the sacrificed appendage, wriggles, alive; more vibrant than the frog-like reptile now crouched behind the rock. Praise for the Alcoholic And the rides they take us on. For deep thirst, dark wells, and frayed ropes. For each tumbling and crashing. Praise for ground level perspective, and the parietal cortex that orients our limbs in space. Praise for this step. And this step. And this one. Praise for dung beetles’ green sheen and birch leaves, For trail heads and their trails, and black wings circling. Praise for things to look out for And out from. For carpet stains and black burn holes. For broken windows and people. For full bottles and empty rooms. Praise for mosaics and mortar, for fault lines that run through families. For research and sentences like: “Cause of death: intemperance" and flashes of understanding. Praise for images both still and moving. For bones covered in dirt or skin, for shovels and prayer, and metaphors like “wind shear” for devices that elevate and lift. Praise for words like “alcoholic.” For boxes to contain things. For things cracking open, and black wings rustling. Praise for things that rise and leave, For things that catch light, this one blue -black feather floating down to the page
Beverly Bagelman was Winner of the 2017 Animal Passion Award through Austin Poetry Society, and has been published in Austin Best Poetry and Ocotillo Revie. Her debut chapbook Fossil Wings is being released by Finishing Line Press in April 2023.
Guest Editor Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg, the 2009-13 Kansas Poet Laureate is the author of 24 books, including How Time Moves: New & Selected Poems; Miriam’s Well, a novel; and The Sky Begins At Your Feet: A Memoir on Cancer, Community, and Coming Home to the Body. Founder of Transformative Language Arts, she is offers writing workshops, coaching, and collaborative projects YourRightLivelihood.com with Kathryn Lorenzen, Bravevoice.com with Kelley Hunt, and TheArtofFacilitation.net with Joy Roulier Sawyer. CarynMirriamGoldberg.com.
The Coop: A Poetry Cooperative 