The Missis Riverbs

Sure she answers and abhors and absorbs and blames and blesses and breathes and bleeds and blends and bends and beds and burns and churns and chirrs and curses and curdles and circles and chants and crosses and carouses and devils and damns and dams and decants and dishes and drinks and drains and drowns and drones and dribbles and drivels and drives and drips and dredges and drenches and dunks and dogs and eyes and ekes and eddies and ebbs and fibs and fathers and froths and foams and floats and flies and fails and falls and furls and fusses and festers and founders and forgives and freezes and feeds and gluts and guts and gargles and gulps and gushes and gossips and gabs and gibbers and grins and grimes and grieves and heaves and hisses and hums and happens and hobnobs and hoodoos and ills and inks and inches and juices and jellies and jets and jaws and keelhauls and kills and kisses and licks and laps and lobs and lollygags and moonlights and moats and moans and maims and man-eats and mambos and mackles and meows and milks and muses and musses and muscles and nuts and needles and necks and noises and noses and offs and ogles and oils and outs and pouts and pounds and plots and plinks and prays and preys and quails and quibbles and quenches and riles and rinses and rushes and ruts and rackets and rills and roils and roars and soaps and soaks and seeks and sinks and slinks and swills and swirls and swishes and swigs and slurps and slurs and sluices and smears and stonewashes and stains and smuts and sleeps and treats and tricks and trickles and twinkles and thrums and throbs and threads and treads and ulcers and utters and unites and unties and unchurches and upbraids and uglies and upchucks and vultures and varnishes and wicks and worms and works and whirrs and whirls and worries and warps and exports and excels and expels and extols and excites and excides and exes and exes and exes and yacks and yanks and yammers and yips and yens and zens and zones and zings and zags and zounds but to me she just sings, sings her long brown complaint—no matter how hard she tries ridding herself, her heart refills—that urgent refusal of emptiness totaled—

 

 

 

 

Henry Goldkamp was born and raised in St. Louis, Missouri. His work is forthcoming in Indiana Review, Diagram, South Carolina Review, Split Lip Magazine, The McNeese Review, and Lumina, among others. He is the grateful recipient of the Ryan Chighizola Prize for poetry from University of New Orleans. His public art projects have been covered by Time and NPR. Currently, he lives in Louisiana with his small, lovely family.