Jefferson Carter
dedicated minor poet
Preparing space in my closet for my new collection due January from Moonstone Arts Center in Philadelphia, I found a carton of "Diphtheria Festival," my 2016 collection from Main Street Rag.
It's depressing to hear the copies whining to be adopted, so if you'd like an autographed copy for the low, low price of $9 (which includes postage), please let me know! You'll make me and a homeless poetry book happy! XO (Here's a poem from the book):
THE FALLING MAN
The tower’s gray & white stripes
like a corduroy curtain behind him,
the man, dark-skinned, wearing
a pale sports coat & black slacks,
the man isn’t falling. I’ve superglued
the photo upside-down to the inside
of my closet door. He isn’t falling,
one knee lifted, arms rigid, trapping
the billowing skirts of his jacket
against his sides. He’s anyone
I can imagine. The father of many girls.
An expert on the language of Greenland,
which has no expletives. A novice stepdancer
practicing his routine. Sometimes, when
no one’s around, I open the closet door
& say, “Good morning, Dancing Man.”
It's depressing to hear the copies whining to be adopted, so if you'd like an autographed copy for the low, low price of $9 (which includes postage), please let me know! You'll make me and a homeless poetry book happy! XO (Here's a poem from the book):
THE FALLING MAN
The tower’s gray & white stripes
like a corduroy curtain behind him,
the man, dark-skinned, wearing
a pale sports coat & black slacks,
the man isn’t falling. I’ve superglued
the photo upside-down to the inside
of my closet door. He isn’t falling,
one knee lifted, arms rigid, trapping
the billowing skirts of his jacket
against his sides. He’s anyone
I can imagine. The father of many girls.
An expert on the language of Greenland,
which has no expletives. A novice stepdancer
practicing his routine. Sometimes, when
no one’s around, I open the closet door
& say, “Good morning, Dancing Man.”
