#19
       The "Do You Have Lots of Faults Too?" Issue

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SUSAN TEPPER

Bark

In the trees if you look
the bark tells the story

you corrupted—

A short trip to the wall
wasn't heaven-sent
or harvest at your table

the meager spread is
goods unleashed—
rolling apples and bread
sticky with jam

Body

This poem has no end

only a death start
blood, and the sludge

dredged up

from your body that is

earth

And all earth

Not a drop of
air or wind or fire

Prelude

During the winter sleep as bears
We forfeit washing under our layers
Of leaves and forgetfulness

It was a different generation \

With summer vines entwined
they choked out memory—

A prelude of what was to come

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