11/26/2012

but sleep. On a rumple of waves, two           loosed canoes.

Soon I’ll find you
in your wooden ribs.

I’ll tie a rope. I’ll climb on.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This poem came out of a writing assignment to radically revise an older, failed poem. In the end, I
found that there was nothing to do but cut the old poem down, and this sliver remained. I love to
read tiny poems—to feel their lyrical intensity all at once—and yet I find that I never write them, so
this assignment of radical revision proved helpful in getting me to try something new and to trust a
few words to do big work.

BIO:

Corinna McClanahan Schroeder’s poetry appears or is forthcoming in such journals as Tampa Review, The Gettysburg Review, Shenandoah, and Blackbird. She is the recipient of a 2010 AWP Intro Journals Award in poetry and was named a finalist for the Ruth Lilly Poetry Fellowship in 2011. She holds an MFA from the University of Mississippi and is currently pursuing her PhD at the University of Southern California.
MORE POEMS:

12/15/2016
'2016', Ryan Meyer


09/28/2010
'Firmament', Heather Cousins


12/03/2010
'Mid-Term Depression', Eric Bliman