For Those of Us Who Are Easily Lost

Give us a phone number, something
we can fold and pocket and take along.
We’re like laboratory mice who
have been whirled in a windsock
in some equilibrium experiment.
Back out on the floor their compasses
are drunk, they stagger right, left,
then fall into a heap of themselves.
Locals are no help:Drive a ways down
this road then not far past the bait shop
turn left where the church used to been.
Subscribe to read the full text.

Jeff Worley has published five books, three chapbooks, and has edited a poetry anthology titled What Comes Down to Us (University Press of Kentucky, 2009). Worley’s poems have also appeared widely in magazines in the United States and Canada for the past thirty-five years, and he is the recipient of numerous awards and honors.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *