(Nore–Today is the first day of three featuring the poetry of Eric Huff. He will appear today, tomorrow and Monday. We feel the readers will like his stuff as much as we do–The Eds.)

I want you to call me by whatever name you want. call me the river road. call me the western motel on the river road. listen to me tell you about my scrap metal dreams, about my literal scrap metal dreams and berry bramble night terrors. you have a sleeper in your eye again. start unfolding each of these paper cranes so I can get a better look at the printed patterns. more than half of these are just black and white photocopies of my face but with one or two subtle differences. look at this one, my eyes are closed. and here, the part in my hair is mirrored. the record of this day is being played back in reverse and it’s only now that I can hear your voice – like a cactus bloom at 1am this is something I have waited for. please say something lovely. say something right. breathe in all this moonshine.

Eric Huff

Rivulets

my dream? bluestem moves in rivulets.

winter cress, wild ginger, the cattail –

when I die, I want you to open all the

windows and drink cold water right from the sink.

Eric Huff

(Image is of the poet)