Behind

by Brent Goodman

Behind the house we ungrounded lightning rods where copper wires plunged deep into clay. Shot squirrels with pellet pistols hiding cool CO2 cartridges in their grips; missed most times. Behind that tree the neighbor girl's swimsuit grew elastic. Take the crucifix off the rec room wall and hide his broken arms behind the couch. Behind her eyes question marks curl into hooks; it begins to thunder. Behind my brother I turn to shadow.

6S

Brent Goodman is the author of The Brother Swimming Beneath Me (Black Lawrence Press, forthcoming 2009). His work has been featured in Diagram, No Tell Motel, Diode, Poetry, Beloit Poetry Journal, Barn Owl Review, and other fun zines. He blogs about what he is thinking about having for dinner here.