Tuesday poem #389 : Bill Carty : HENS

Third time this week

on I-5 behind the same

maniac who spelled

HENS upside-down

and backward

on his vanity plate:

S-N-3-H.

Two days running

I’ve nearly backed

from my driveway

into the same scooter,

its driver hunched

like a leather-backed

turtle in white helmet.

Dear strangers

who know me

better than anyone—

where do you keep

your secret clocks?

Bill Carty is the author of Huge Cloudy (Octopus Books). He has received poetry fellowships from the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown, Artist Trust, Hugo House, and Jack Straw. He was awarded the Emily Dickinson Award from the Poetry Society of America, and his poems have recently appeared in the jubilat, Denver Quarterly, Paperbag, and other journals. Originally from coastal Maine, Bill now lives in Seattle, where he is Senior Editor at Poetry Northwest. He teaches at the Hugo House, the UW Robinson Center for Young Scholars, and Edmonds College. www.billcarty.com

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan