November 23, 2016

Elaine Sexton

ANTHEM

His face, a flag, fades
and folds into
what it once was—

in death, an anthem
to itself. He is wave
after wave of what

promised to be
a good ride. Always
in four-wheel drive,

he is passenger
and pilot both.
The roll bar protects us

from breaking
our necks.
What we know

about him,
we know
without doors,

without windows,
without a roof.

from Rattle #53, Fall 2016
Tribute to Adjuncts

__________

Elaine Sexton: “Teaching offers me the opportunity to not only share what I know, but to extend the conversation of poetry and the art world to my students, who would find it hard to participate otherwise. The downsizing in publishing, my first profession, brought me to the itinerant life of an adjunct teacher. Teaching poetry was something I had previously done for the sheer pleasure of it.” (website)