Pulp Poem of the Week

The undertaker’s eyes
always look like
they’re measuring you for a coffin,
and the astronaut’s eyes are
always looking
up to the sky.
My father was mostly
unemployed.
His eyes had
stories written across them.

          Sherman Alexie
          “Witnesses, Secret and Not”
          1993

Pulp Poem of the Week

everything
looks like a noose
if you stare at it
long enough

          Sherman Alexie
          “Indian Education”
          1993