Tupelo 5/30: What Lies Beyond Rescue

Dear Reader, 

Today's poem is written in response to a title by my dear friend, the poet Cindy Arrieu-King, offered after donating to Tupelo Press. 

It prompted me to explore/define "wreckage," and though my audio draft led me to some tricky cultural/political material, in the end I decided to stick with what felt closest to the bone. 

In the transcription of my audio draft, I wrote "I want to believe there is nothing that lies beyond rescue. That we might troll the river and find a family of beavers nursing the young boy who’d gone missing. Though I too understand lost causes, or maybe I don’t." Ultimately, these lines didn't find their way in the poem, but I think this is what the poem is about: wanting to be rational, but unable to shake a deep-rooted hope. 

I'm traveling today, returning from two weeks as a resident at Sundress Academy for the Arts (SAFTA) at the quiet and grounding Firefly Farms. 

Here's an excerpt from "What Lies Beyond Rescue" (read the full poem here):


"Spent rocket stages, paint flakes

and frozen coolant in Earth’s low orbit.

Ed White’s lost glove gathering speed.

An eye that’s scratched beyond repair.
The thing that’s gone too far past
a sink’s drain hatch, though a friend

retrieved his son’s stuffed humpback
who’d fallen in the open sewer cap."

If you would like to title one of my poems, select five words for a poem, give me a potential theme/topic, offer a formal challenge, or receive a chapbook at the end of this project, please see my first posting for incentive amounts and make your way to the Tupelo Press donation page. Be sure to select my name from the scroll down tab titled "Is this donation in honor of a 30/30 poet?" 
For those of you who have already selected your incentives, I will be delivering those poems shortly.

Yours in poetry,

Emari