Josh Hanson


In the alley, the cow is up on the winch,
Hollowed of vitals, and the men swing the hook
Gentle and raise, with some six hands, the body.
Say the Republic fell, these hands digging
Out the earth's belly for what remains
Beneath the shit and shale, remembrance,
Which is built, blood and bone, the meat
Of lost days: we do not apply metaphor
To the past, which is metaphor, the world
Which turns upon itself in meaning, means
Nothing: the head was burnt, or not, it's gone:
The ash of it whitening over the day, and this,
The solemn work of living with the dead.

Date of Birth: June 15, 1974
Location: Eureka, California
Publications: Diagram, Words on Walls, Three Candles, Rock Salt Plum, etc.
Other: Graduate of the Montana Writing Program

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