Darren C. Demaree
Darren C. Demaree is the author of twenty-one poetry collections, most recently “in defense of the goat that continues to wander towards the certain doom of the cliff”, (forthcoming from April Gloaming, February 2024). He is the recipient of a Greater Columbus Arts Council Grant, an Ohio Arts Council Individual Excellence Award, the Louise Bogan Award from Trio House Press, and the Nancy Dew Taylor Award from Emrys Journal. He is the Editor-in-Chief of the Best of the Net Anthology and the Managing Editor of Ovenbird Poetry. He is currently working in the Columbus Metropolitan Library system.
Emily as We Listen to an Aged Martin Sexton Play “Glory Bound” in Her Hometown of Newark, Ohio
There is one blue
Emily. There are three
that refuse to wear
more than the sheer
wind. All four
of them get lost
where they grew up.
There is no chance
to take. They eat
the flowers
of every season.
We need no repair.
All the song can do
is frame winter.
They are an allegory
of Spring. Ohio
is their fantasy. I love
these dark glories
& here I am, tying
up my own hands
before she can ask.
Darren C. Demaree
Darren C. Demaree is the author of twenty-one poetry collections, most recently “in defense of the goat that continues to wander towards the certain doom of the cliff”, (forthcoming from April Gloaming, February 2024). He is the recipient of a Greater Columbus Arts Council Grant, an Ohio Arts Council Individual Excellence Award, the Louise Bogan Award from Trio House Press, and the Nancy Dew Taylor Award from Emrys Journal. He is the Editor-in-Chief of the Best of the Net Anthology and the Managing Editor of Ovenbird Poetry. He is currently working in the Columbus Metropolitan Library system.
Darren C. Demaree
Emily as We Listen to an Aged Martin Sexton Play “Glory Bound” in Her Hometown of Newark, Ohio
There is one blue
Emily. There are three
that refuse to wear
more than the sheer
wind. All four
of them get lost
where they grew up.
There is no chance
to take. They eat
the flowers
of every season.
We need no repair.
All the song can do
is frame winter.
They are an allegory
of Spring. Ohio
is their fantasy. I love
these dark glories
& here I am, tying
up my own hands
before she can ask.