Cool Valley

by Marcus Slease

We sat outside in the snow behind our parent’s house where the stash was hidden inside a crate keeping cold near the trampoline a small stash of Polygamy Porters I flew to America two months after your death and it was summer and the stash was gone but there was an old wardrobe the wood was drying out it was half eaten by termites and inside the wardrobe I found your work shirt with your name stitched above the pocket and below that the name of the family business COOL VALLEY I heard a buzzing inside your wardrobe and watched the wasps leave and return leave and return they were building their new home RIGHT THERE

marcus slease pic(1)Marcus Slease was born in Portadown, N. Ireland. He emigrated to Las Vegas at age 12 to become Mormon. He is no longer a resident of Vegas or a Mormon. He lives in London. Poor Claudia recently released his latest book of poetry Mu (Dream) So (Window): and Deathless Press just published his Polish post modern fairy tale entitled The House of Zabka. He tumbles at The House of Zabka

1 Comment
  1. dani says:

    This poem is lovely. I can feel the loss in it. Vast. The wasps nest, the description of them leaving and returning, like tiny ghosts, is brilliant. Well done, and thank you.


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