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July 22, 2019 Poetry

Three Poems

Lucas Shepherd

Three Poems photo

My Favorite Hat

not the other                     way around.
rules for one                     brief moment,
the world is                       subject to our
ture, probably                   a rabbit, and
dad anymore.                   I’m some crea-
my favorite                       hat I am not
to my child.                      When I wear
  them on my head. The pants belong
    with an elastic waistband. I wear
    My favorite hat is a pair of pants



Blue Hawaii Hat 

My other favorite
hat is blue. I bought
it in Hawaii two weeks
before basic training.
When I wear my blue
Hawaii hat I think of

younger me walking through
a village on the beach, barefoot,
shirtless, eating octopus for the
first time. My wife says she likes
the way I look when I wear
my blue Hawaii hat.
It must be a magic hat. It
must change me somehow.



Rust is a Color, the Tech Sergeant Told Me

when                I                    brought           two               rust                 y


-ass                  flood             lights               to                 the                   cor


ro                      sion              hang                ar.               “Cor                ro                                   


sion                   hap              pens               when             you                don’t


pow                   er                 wash              your              e                    quip


ment                 prop              er                   ly,”                 he                  said,


as                     if                   I                      a                    lone               were                        


cul                    pa                 ble                  for                  the                 whole


ox                     i                    da                   tion                pro                cess.                        


Hei                   deg               ger                  claimed           our               ver                       


y                      ex                   ist                  ence               is                  debt,                        


which               then               cat                  a                    lyz                 es                        


feel                  ings                of                   guilt.               What             ex


ists,                 I                       won              dered,             to                  fight


the                  met                  a                   phor                 i                    cal


i                       ron                  ox                 ide                   that                cor                       


rodes               the                  im                 age                 of                  Self?



image: Mélanie Desriaux