Someone asked me the other day — "what's the sort of poem
do you like?"
All types!
But here's one I read the night before, before falling off to sleep, and I marked it:
The untitled poem is by Douglas Crase from his forthcoming book
The Revisionist and The Astropastorals
(Nightboat Books, 2019)
_______________________
Under the rim of maybe
Back on the edge of regret
Around the corner from should have
Down the street from forget
Out on a limb with willing
Too far gone to remark
Close to the tip of almost
Up slip creek in the dark
