Geoff Anderson


they took the old
out of you

hissed wrinkles
smooth with irons

powdered skin injected
hollowed hands

I can’t remember
how you looked

where tubes pushed
a beat of wings

into the chest
I kept expecting 

to rise out of habit
until it didn’t


it is my turn
to speak

and I bring
the congregation

into the garden
I showed you

some springs ago
marigolds coated 

in frost petals
burning beneath 

you told me never to
plant so soon in

May I say I didn’t
want to believe you

when the truth lies
right in front of me

I want it to be



Geoff Anderson crosses the tracks, the bridge, the overpass in Columbus, OH. His work is out in places like Origins, Wherewithal, and Outlook Springs, among others.

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