Jared Pearce, 1/20/2020
Current Occupation: English Professor
Former Occupation: Furniture Delivery
Contact Information: Jared Pearce's collection, The Annotated Murder of One (2018) is available from Aubade. Some of his poems have recently been or will soon be shared in Xavier Review, Panoplyzine, Cacti Fur, Fleas on the Dog, and BlazeVOX. Further: https://jaredpearcepoetry.
#
Don’t let me down
1
A new vision, it’s true,
can be climbed to at
the ladder’s top,
but it also shows what
everyone knows: if
you fall, you die.
2
The rungs trembled
and bucked as I went up,
the rails dipped
and rose though
the locks bit in:
unafraid, it’s nice
to return again to
the paint-splattered
earth, like it wants me.
3
I locked the extenders
after putting the ladder
under the roof’s peak,
atop the first-level roof.
I climbed above the sheer
drop to my right, clung
with my left to the burning
asphalt, and froze.
Dad’s voice seemed
to still to me: Don’t worry,
boy, do the job. There
was a breeze; I lunged
with my brush to cover
as much as I could reach,
determined after Dad’s breach.
#
E-Sports
The glories of the pixel gridiron,
the ulnar collateral pop and ping,
the deft glance, the precision
crosshairs, we must have you
save our university.
Our data spreads mean a little bread
yeasts our way if they come play.
The recalibrated bandwidth
opened like angioplasty, pro dreams
swamping us like swollen revenue
streams, pressures beating as we
watch the teams on screen.
We want them to spend
their money here, rather than elsewhere.
#
Prairie Restoration
The ice was supposed to
help, but it slipped below
us and let the seeds, sprayed
from the broadcaster, slide.
We didn’t see much
sign of deer or bird, and lay
our hopes in the graying
world, waiting for another storm
to blanket down and warm
life into growth. A farmer
came by to say he’d never seen frost
seeding, and took a picture.
We trudged the hill to prep tomorrow,
stash our gear and tuck
the sacks for the north acre. We can see,
in our minds, how it could be.
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