By Kyle Hunt

The bones, they show

knock—so what to do
but let them in? No worry

or wonder, it’s aboutness
for which I’m lately living,

the way my days
they honey themselves

together. Let us
slow crawl through the sweet

muck of meaning,
so thick

we’d swear
we hadn’t moved at all.
Kyle Hunt is a poet from West Texas. He holds a BA in creative writing from Texas Tech University. He is an MFA candidate in the Helen Zell Writers’ Program at the University of Michigan and a Civitas Fellow at InsideOut Literary Arts Project.