Let’s Get Out of Here by Corey Zeller

View this email on a browser Forward to a friend May 9, 2014   Let’s Get Out of Here   Corey Zeller

The river is a fish and my tongue is white paper you draw your hand on and the sounds keys make on the waist of a janitor in an empty building on the night of your birth when the moon was a live bird pinned to a girl’s chest and the color of a beat-up door that hides a paint chipped life where we lick the throats of passing trains and wear bright pills over our faces like ghost masks and move the tiny ghosts that live in us like dominos.              Copyright @ 2014 by Corey Zeller. Used with permission of the author. About This Poem   “I wrote this poem because I heard a train passing. Maybe I will send it to Amtrak and ask for a residency.” —Corey Zeller   Corey Zeller is the author of Man vs. Sky (YesYes Books, 2013). He works with at-risk youth in Erie, Pennsylvania. Most Recent Book by Zeller   Man vs. Sky  (YesYes Books, 2013) "And the Trains Go On" by Philip Levine "Out-of-the-Body Travel" by Stanley Plumly "The Bus through Jonesboro, Arkansas" by Matthew Henriksen Poem-a-Day   Launched during National Poetry Month in 2006, Poem-a-Day features new and previously unpublished poems by contemporary poets on weekdays and classic poems on weekends. Thanks for being a part of the Academy of American Poets community. To learn about other programs, including National Poetry Month, Poem in Your Pocket Day, the annual Poets Forum, and more, visit poets.org   You are receiving this e-mail because you elected to subscribe to our mailing list. If you would like to unsubscribe, please click here.   © Academy of American Poets 75 Maiden Lane, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038