Piedras Marcadas In nearby canyons, rocks tell bygone tales. Of course, all rocks have stories—some a bit louder than others. This wide rockface pulls you in with coyotes, a lone rabbit, an arrow squiggly as a twisted snake. That petroglyph—with roadrunners and men beneath an open-mouthed sunburst and hawk— speaks another tale. While wind and rain have scoured voices, etched away accounts like memories, the narratives can still be found and learned, deciphered: ancient glints with new interpretations. Hear the call? A kokopelli with a flute plays on. You choose the notes, the hook, the myths within.
Job Arrives in Texas starting with a Dickinson line (#956) What shall I do when the summer troubles, when life gets number and number? Troubles! A hundred outside, ninety in the house. Air is dead, more than a bummer: troubles. I’m bored, I’m bored. I sleep the day away. Comatose, could I have dumber troubles? Though full-on, the kitchen faucet trickles. Now the toilet won’t flush—plumber troubles. On my street, frat boys park like random dice. A curse: they all deserve Hummer troubles. A keg is tapped. The boys are loud as sin. Stoned percussionists with drummer troubles. I sweat, I swear, watch the streetlights go black. Alone and old with newcomer troubles.
Texas Institute of Letters member Scott Wiggerman is an author with three books of poetry, Leaf and Beak: Sonnets, Presence, and Vegetables and Other Relationships; and the editor of several volumes, including two volumes of Wingbeats: Exercises & Practice in Poetry (Dos Gatos Press) and 22 Poems and a Prayer for El Paso, winner of a NM/AZ Book Award. Based in Albuquerque, he often teaches classes in form, including haiku, the sonnet, and the ghazal.
Grand Little Things 