print previewback CHRISTOPHER EMERY
Detroit Boxtrain Wood Finisher
I once knew this girl who, everything she owned,
was missing parts.
Her car was missing a window,
her coat lost a lapel.
Her thirteen-year-old cat was missing a tooth,
her bank card was missing an expiration date,
her left finger, or the pinky farthest left,
was gone. The bookstore never had
what she wanted, and at concerts
she left during the last song.
She had this bright glow about her,
like seeing a coin lying on the sidewalk
but she never had pockets. 
Detroit Boxtrain Wood Finisher
The Back Porch