Two poems and a memoir by Tarn Wilson

~
Late summer 1971, my father quit his job in Washington, D.C. as the Brookings Institution's first computer programmer, bought an old school bus with "Suck Nixon" painted on the side, and packed us off for British Columbia. 
        . . . Set loose in the primeval Canadian wilderness, my sister and I were to be educated by the land, released from shame, fear, insecurities, sexual hangups, and shallow social conventions imposed by a corrupt and repressive culture.  In our natural, unspoiled state, we'd be happy and free.

--From The Slow Farm, a memoir by Tarn Wilson (Ovenbird Books Nonfiction Series, 2014). 

 

 

Betsy's boyfriend dumped her this morning

and when she comes to the door

I am in my underpants, unable to console her. 

...

--From "Living Alone with Small Dogs," a poem by Matthew Siegel, Cimarron Review (Issue 181, Fall 2012), p. 14.   

 

 

She used the stadium. I would have
chosen the bridge. We’re not even

 

Division One. Our tailgate crowds
are mostly enthusiastic about beer. 

. . .

--From "Ready Regret," a poem by Lisa Olstein, Linebreak (July 22, 2014).