This poem is taken from PN Review 38, Volume 10 Number 6, May - June 1984.Florida
I flew to Florida in order to join my husband
again in order to find out that I couldn't
live with him - not, at least, in Florida.
Not anywhere. I flew to Florida
in order to leave. I flew
to Florida afraid of everything.
The plane was bad and the plane
was only the beginning. As we landed,
the flat green-yellow ground around the airstrip
looked to be punctuated
with crazy regularity by knobs
like bristles on a titanic face
one had to be too close for comfort to
in order to see at all
and then could not unsee the hideous landscape.
Palmettoes sprouting: small controlled explosions.
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