Two Poems by Daneen Wardrop

hoop

see a possum, sadder than seeing

they practice all the time, it doesn’t help—

inside-out feces and ammonia

flange the big death

smell, the rims are its heart

guess where I’m going

you-there, I hoop

my body through itself

it’s not you

talk-note

it’s slower than rain but shinier

than rain-smell is beets and chlorox

Gam looks out the kitchen window

and I pull on her, pull on her

hem-dress, the one with aubergine flowers

you can’t pick them

a storm joggles all the rooms in a meadow

the meadow rises, talk-notes get grainier,

grainier, so no one intones much

it keeps the hill a hill—