DUST Dust is the only secret from the grate’s breath. Dust an unseamed presence the lights at night flare in the house, house whose windows are eyes to the sole body, mine, whispers of dust spilled everywhere throughout. The cabinets and dresses shushed and veiled by dust, these bodies unbecoming wide-spread public unrecorded, can you see their eyes? In the morning, when I dust off the piano, I see a park of single-wides shipwrecked on bricks porches empty blinds drawn everyone inside. They begin to sing, first softly then loudly…
Read MoreHeidi Lynn Staples
Heidi Lynn Staples' debut collection, Guess Can Gallop, was selected by Brenda Hillman as a winner of the New Issues Poetry Prize. She is author of four other collections, including the book from which these poems have been selected, A**A*A*A, forthcoming from Ahsahata, 2018. Her poetry has appeared in American Poetry Review, Best American Poetry, Denver Quarterly, Ecotone, Ploughshares, Women's Studies Quarterly and elsewhere. With the poet Amy King, she is editor and founder of Poetsfor Living Waters, begun as an international response to the BP oil disaster in the Gulf of Mexico and of the anthology Big Energy Poets: When Ecopoetry Thinks Climate Change (BlazeVOX, 2017).
She was born in 1971 in USA. She lives at the foot of Ruffner Mountain, one of the largest privately held urban wildlife sanctuaries in the U.S., and teaches in the MFA program at the University of Alabama.