–& I Said I Am The Hurricane

Shame is the best way to start: the moment of injury

or the moment after—a synapse—the blood’s path

making itself just for me and the world, a highway

doubling back for the living, aerial view, the sky

dizzying as ever, my pain nomadic, thinly clothed

and wandering.  I had to arrive where I first ended,

creep back to the body, hover into a high branch

and nest.  Are you troubled?  I blink back to July

on a porch, our porch, and you speak in past tense,

my body caught in so many blackout afternoons,

a version of me you struggle to hold onto, but

you do not say we, only then or you were drunk,

like I remember how it feels.


–Erin Veith; from I Closed My Eyes To Tell That Story
   (Latham House Press, 2014)

Reserve your advance copy of Erin Veith’s _I Closed My Eyes To Tell That Story_ (Latham House Press 2014)


Veith cover

Erin Veith’s collection I Closed My Eyes To Tell That Story, the launch publication of Latham House Press, will be published on July 7, 2014.  This will be a limited-run edition of 250 numbered copies.

Copies are now available for pre-order via the form below.

Reservation requests will be answered with an emailed invoice.  After invoice is returned with payment, reserved copies will be mailed out beginning July 8.  Latham House Press will pay shipping.

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Headed Home

Here is the driveway, a row of dogwood.  It isn’t lovely this time of year.

The path to righteousness must be paved even before we are ready.

I am recycling a moment:  one October evening, little house, cars in the yard.

I long for someone (me, perhaps) to say absolutely.

A woman hands me a coin, presses it to my palm like a prayer.

I have been abandoned.  (—scratch that—)  I feel like I have been abandoned.

All forms of landscape are autobiographical, thank goodness.

Just so we’re clear, the darkness I’m about to show you is all mine.


–Erin Veith; from I Closed My Eyes To Tell That Story
   (Latham House Press, 2014)