Cousin Mack from upstate Maine
snapped his syllables clean
and crisp like green beans
dropped in my grandmother’s lap.
Jimmy Joe from Arkansas
plopped his words like handfuls
of new Irish potatoes
tossed into a bucket so we
missed the sound of some.
And cousin Marlow from Georgia
extruded his, pushed them out
like sausage, long fluid flow
with soft, squishy pauses
and periods held and strung out
so they seemed like dashes.
Image credit: Just A Pinch Recipe Club superimposed with Microsoft WordArt
Wesley Sims has published two chapbooks of poetry, When Night Comes, Finishing Line Press, Georgetown, Kentucky, 2013, and Taste of Change, Iris Press, Oak Ridge, TN, 2019. His work has appeared in Connecticut Review, G.W. Review, The South Carolina Review, Liquid Imagination, Pine Mountain Sand and Gravel, Breath & Shadow, Plum Tree Tavern, American Diversity Report, Artemis Journal, Poem, and others.
Latest posts by Wesley (Wes) D. Sims (see all)
- Cedar Christmas Tree by Wesley Sims - December 16, 2021
- Stage of Gloom by Wesley Sims - February 17, 2021
- Conversation with Cousin by Wesley Sims - October 15, 2020