VI
JOAN is alone
on stage
in the woods
They’re holding
a bucket of water
on stage
in the woods
They’re holding
a bucket of water
JOAN
The Warmth
sucking the wet out of every flood-stain
in town It’s extra humid this year
like the flood never left just
transcended
its form like we’ll
breathe it all
in all spring
our town’s drying up but
Mom’s ranger uniform is sweaty after work
Our pores open and drip out
The Arkansas River
My face in every drop of it
The Angels said something about
immolation but I think
They must have meant
Ascension to heaven my face
as a bunch of pixels
Here Begin the Proceedings Against a Dead Woman Jeanne
February 27. Fourth Session
March 3. Sixth Session
The Afternoon of the Same Day, In Prison
The Ordinary Trial