Atlantis Calling, and: Gone Things

Abstract

Atlantis Calling, and: Gone Things Keith Wilson (bio) Atlantis Calling and yet what can i say to raise your cityup? your eyes, horizon, far away from here. we talked by night until the suncame up. for us there is forever, and we can touch its mouth.are you a good kisser, you asked, and i changedthe subject. foreigner, what night is this that, together, we can't break?there is no ice that holds the sea, only some time away from you—a moment to drown another way Gone Things nana's danish soup, never the same no matterhow many times i google it, floating with clear copper butter and spicy (but not hot) beef, and the dustbehind and under and on the fridge (she made us promise [End Page 115] not to move anything expensive) and the outside arizonaof her yard smells of electricity, crisp and infinite and the tree house in a place with no trees, on stiltsabove the copperheads, its wood ribbed and solid as stone [End Page 116] Keith Wilson Keith S. Wilson is an Affrilachian Poet, Cave Canem fellow, and graduate of the Callaloo Creative Writing Workshop. He has received scholarships from Bread Loaf, MacDowell, Ucross, Millay Colony, and the Vermont Studio Center, among others. Keith serves as assistant poetry editor at Four Way Review and digital media editor at Obsidian Journal. His first book, Fieldnotes on Ordinary Love, is forthcoming from Copper Canyon. Copyright © 2018 University of Nebraska Press