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Poem: “Stone fence”

Stone fence

I built me a stone fence

by stacking one glass

of Maker’s Mark whiskey

on another,

interspersed with

large lumps of ice,

mortared with sweet cider.

I built me a stone fence

in a circle and,

when it was done,

leaped inside the circuit and

fell down the well to

the center of the Earth where

I met Buddha, Our Lady of Light,

the Queen of Clubs and

St. Augustine who wanted to

get on the wagon but

not just yet.

I built me a stone fence

across the face of northwest Ireland

as if to corral the island’s

saints, fairies, snakes, nuns and travelers

in the backroom of a pub where

the constable is writing poetry,

and I long for coffee.

I built me a stone fence

and went out on Main Street

in noonday sun

where Johnny Raptor,

wanted in seven states,

called me out,

and, as I drew,

my skull was thundered with

a screaming headache that

no hangover remedy was ever going

to calm.

I built me a stone fence

and then crawled under the weight of it all

into my sympathetic grave.

Patrick T. Reardon


This poem originally appeared in the anthology Cowboys & Cocktails, published 4.2.2019.

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