In the Museum

By Rose Hunter


Smithy: the thing the soul is not but still
I pause in front of the box
with the locks and keys. This lock

is heavy-bellied with a rainbow top
and the key a handle with acrobats:
here are their splayed arms
and legs. Here their coronets and
devils’ peaks, while he moves

to the spurs
the five-toothed choice

of the Conquistador
unsheathing his sword
“you don’t want to be
inside my head; no one does –
there’s bad stuff there”

how bad? I want
the details. The details
don’t matter. I don’t want the
details. I want the details…

what the hammer
what the anvil

a relation of facts
how it was, and how it is
Minnesota cowboy.

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Rose Hunter's book of poetry, to the river, was published in 2010 by Artistically Declined Press. Her writing has also appeared in such places as PANK, kill author, decomP, elimae, anderbo, Juked, Bluestem, The Toronto Quarterly, The Barcelona Review, and Geist. She can be found at "Whoever Brought Me Here Will Have To Take Me Home" (roseh400.wordpress.com). Once upon a time she wrote articles for boxing magazines. She is from Australia originally, lived in Toronto for ten years, and now lives in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.

One response to “In the Museum”

  1. […] Hunter (website) has been published in such places as PANK, >kill author, The Nervous Breakdown, anderbo, Juked, and previously in qarrtsiluni. Her book of poetry, to the river, was published in […]

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