It was so rooky

             how the BloodGoodBabe first watered down the strychnine

             for newcomers, so


                                                  their tolerance would be demi-god like

                                                  by the time they’d begin professing on their own,


                         but the power of prayer

                         is like yearning to strike your first match—

                                      so terrified of something

                                                                           somehow going terribly wrong:


                                                  Those confused children would

                                                  tip the glass to their lips

                                                              and that burn at the basin


                          of adrenaline liquefiying

                         the body like wind-blown Piggly Wiggly bags


so alive?


                                                            she could fill them

                                                            with anything she wanted.









Travis Blankenship’s poetry appears or is forthcoming from A cappella Zoo, Artifice, and Smash Cake magazines among others. He has been the recipient of a Tin House Writer’s Workshop scholarship, the Jim Wayne Miller Poetry Prize, a Geoffrey McClevly Memorial Award, and a Bondurant Prize in poetry. He founded the Goldenrod Poetry Festival now in its 6th year at Western Kentucky University. Currently, he is senior editor of the Yalobusha Review and lives in Mississippi.

Even the Army in White, River-wet Baptismal Garments Will Come for Her In Hell
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