"Afternoons on Utopia Parkway" by David Roderick

[audio m4a="http://barnstormjournal.org/content/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/Utopia-Parkway.m4a"][/audio]                              Joseph Cornell Who’s the crow pecking throughall that stuff? Sort of parasiticeyebrows, electric bonesin his face. Down the cricketstairway to the basement he leavesno bread crumb trail behind.His mother at the kitchen tablechews a crossword, but he’sclimbing down to good woodplaned and sanded, little covenantarks, some containing marblesor a spicewood skiff. Epoxyfixes his jaw. Inside eachhammered-together space his handsturn to creatures shedding shells—though never growing in size,never scuttling in his pantsas long as the wild dolls’ eyes assesshim and twirl into his beloveds—Dickinsons and dancers freezingmid-leap across foundling chipsand bottlecaps, magazine scrim,doilies and pinballs, bits of bits.David Roderick’s first book of poems, BLUE COLONIAL, won the APR/Honickman Prize. This fall, the Pitt Poetry Series published his second book, THE AMERICANS. He teaches in the MFA Writing Program at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro and hosts an interview series on The Rumpus called The Late Nite Poetry Show.