12/19/2012

I’m in the headlights of his car
when he comes home
with a pistol. In those two
bright white eyes.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This poem started as a multi-stanza behemoth, and as I pared back extraneous detail, I found that the poem increased in impact the shorter and more compressed I made it. Niedecker was right about working at that condensery.

BIO:

Casey Thayer holds an MFA from Northern Michigan University and has poems forthcoming in The Journal, Poetry, Quarterly West, and elsewhere. He teaches English at the University of Wisconsin-Rock County.
MORE POEMS:

04/10/2013
'Brief Memory Carrying a Twig in its Beak', Josh Booton


09/11/2013
'Lauds', Courtney Kampa


12/19/2012
'The Night After He Says Her Name in Bed', Casey Thayer