Havre
Mixed-blood’s
dark recitatives
carve
out
arterial walls
I refuse to be removed
Once
sounded out
at sundown
words
will fly
away from you
a tongue is
like a ghost
I refuse to be removed
There
where
someone else’s
daughter stands
cradling the credo
beneath her
swollen
breast
I refuse to be removed
O echo
chamber
of the trailer park
O
dovetailed
semantic miracle
I think I get your meaning now
So sweet
are we
to know
earth’s calloused
verses
and when
we sing
a sound’s
borne out
it tears our
sour grapes
clean-
off
barbwire stems
Camille Carter is an American poet, educator, and scholar. Her poetry has appeared in Five Points, New American Writing, Poetry Magazine, Gulf Coast, and other esteemed journals. She lives and teaches in New York, where she is currently pursuing a PhD in Comparative Literature.
