Country Music
an online journal of poetry
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Leora Fridman



I suppose I have thought
a long time about what
isn’t fruitful to eat: the

plants that are just beginning,
the natural carbonation
of a leaf. When is it time

to plan this, or have I
lost that knowledge, too?

Alongside knowing is
the sense I am hauling myself,
the sense no one is arriving

who is going to be able to see.
When I complete this thought
more barriers to entry

will have risen to make it
mounded, unprivate,
owing more to many more -

most labor I can think of
is the labor I did not
dial. It is not 1-800-PIZZA-

My failure in calling anyone
is a failure that has been

made through a phone.
It’s not a failure anyone
else did not do. It is

a whistle made for calling,
so many more people came,
many more people than

we intended to trot out
while we were showing off
this world. This is the bread

of affliction that we showed
everyone visiting so that
they would know it was not just

any regular festival that was on.
Did you mean to be wisdom
when you picked what quality

to be? You are shaping up
to exhibit more musculature
than the usual wide straight.

We’re praying this way because
you suggested, & a suggestion
drives far, a suggestion drives

like no other kind of wood,
being as it is made of what
was plucked. I know I’m no torrid

companion, but you’ve only given me
the choice to believe

or not believe.