Аннотация
Men carry a mattress retrievedfrom a dumpster past the flooded
foundations of an unfinished
high-rise, an old woman catches
a pigeon in the folds of her dress
the dead smile and rise from swimming
pools or stand at attention
on stamps. The landscape can’t believe
it’s real — there is no ground
beneath it, like what mirrors do.
Adam Day is the recipient of fellowships from the Poetry Society of America and Kentucky Arts Council, and a PEN Emerging Writers Award. His work has appeared in Boston Review, the Kenyon Review, American Poetry Review, AGNI, the Iowa Review, and others.
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