Dear Trud,

Matthew Johnstone

To empty at / the bursted pollen, onto unevenly lit slabs,

head filled / with shade, how a currency of years in space

to close performances / attached. My hid specified from

work / & uninvolved in shippings of myself, less amid body,

my inventory / omits over counted shadows. It was warm

where you wane certain to / obsolete, still your earth tells

me that some proximity sifts / us through breaking grades.

Matthew Johnstone is the author of one full length collection of poems, Let's be close Rope to mast you, Old light (Blue & Yellow Dog, 2010), and the chapbooks o n e (Inpatient Press, 2015), and Note on Tundra (DoubleCross Press, 2016). He co-edits ' Pider and hosts the E t A l. poetry readings, both of Nashville, Tennessee.

What do you think?