From the Deer Stand by Alison Palmer

It’s questionable. The gun

pppppin your hands, some power, prowess, a stiff, dark recognition

that we become the objects we own—

pppppppppppppppppppppppAnd the deer

is muscle, is tendon-tight, and we will never own the speeches

ppppppppppppppppppppppppppppthey blink with their eyes, the fragility

pppppppppppof language lost like letters—

Is it wrong of you to scope the deer, aim

pppppppppppppppppfor the center of the skull where knowledge

knocks at the backs of the eyes—

pppppppppppppppppWhat kind of question

pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppis this: In the woods,

ppppp.at the pond, does it count as a kill if I throw the fish
pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp.back?

Alison Palmer’s work appears in FIELD, River Styx, the Cincinnati Review, the Journal and elsewhere. Her chapbook, The Need for Hiding, is available from Dancing Girl Press (2018). Recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize and Best New Poets, Alison received her MFA from Washington University in St. Louis and writes outside Washington, D.C.