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Poem of the Week: The Mole Rat by John Nyman

The Mole Rat

By John Nyman

Maybe a poem for the cool of the bus
in my hair,
like the whole network
of hidden bloodlines
in clear eyes, or the air
rattling under the stop-caller’s

When a container empties
even slightness
engorges it, fills out
its corners again,
a deep network
of trust, tensile thin.

The mole rat
tunneling in the black dirt
works towards brightness blind,
hands careening and ears blowing up
at every new depth.

Contributor’s Note: JOHN NYMAN will join poets Ben Brindise and Justin Karcher as the featured readers at the next Just Buffalo Literary Café at 7 p.m. Wednesday at the Center for Inquiry, 1310 Sweet Home Road in Amherst. His debut collection, “Players” (Palimpsest Press, 2016), has been described as fusing “popular culture with narratives about hand-to-hand combat, how to hustle and high art.” A Toronto native, he is currently completing his doctorate in theory and criticism at Western University in London, Ont.

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