Tuesday, April 18, 2023

The Wear and Tear by Keith Gorman

She’s always in the background, that tiny seed of

doubt driving us all to lose control. The weary wagon

lumbers on, imploring playgrounds to remain open

and highways to run as plain as the sun and straight

as the lines of geometry. But what if I tell a shameless lie—

just make one up—right here on the spot? A guarantee that

despite how tight the hitch is bound or where the hangman

hangs his noose, there’s always a charming rainbow

crayoning along the landscape. And with Spring’s renaissance

and all her fucking little flowers, poets may now salvage

the words of Alan Watts and David Carradine, or they can

shoot the dice with Amazon and have their follies

fall by the door. The door that leads to another

door . . . and another door. . . and another.


Keith Gorman is a poet, guitarist, and factory worker living near the foothills of The Great Smokey Mountain National Park in Eastern Tennessee. His poetry has appeared in or is forthcoming in The Delta Review, The California Quarterly Review, The Main Street Rag, Plainsongs Magazine, and Muddy River Poetry Review.