Autumn 2012


Dear Jeff Daniels


Several weeks ago

I had a call from a telemarketer,

he sounded pale, I worried about him

a little. It didn’t stop me from asking him to hold

while I wove a ceremonial blanket

on a loom I was just then bent on building.

Maybe it was a kind of break for him—

I would have bought whatever it was.

I went to a tough place

and hid my design. I grew horns.

I rimmed adversaries. It wasn’t too much,

Jeff, considering what you’d been through.

We all carry ourselves as weight. This time,

though, I felt strong. Strong like

bulletproof glass.

JOHN EMIL VINCENT





 

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