Jill Hemming, Author at Dialogue Journal

Someone went shooting rabbits last night
blasting any flesh too slow to dodge.

I track the powdered ground until I toe
a scarlet gash melted to concrete.

you talk of breakaway stallions
with hooves poised to strike teeth,
years on long lean roads past Las Vegas
selling church pews down the valley.

Articles/Essays – Volume 24, No. 1

His name, distant to me,
opened your mouth to blackness.

It seemed you laughed before
the half-crow caw fell out.