City Deer #16, #17, and #18 – by Darren C. Demaree

City Deer #16

bright eyes magic without the constellation ourselves ourselves ourselves dead grandmothers
in the slight requiem of reincarnation i sip my coffee for you i call you the names i believe in most
if i could whisper any part of this we might carry forward in some sort of reunion i can’t i can’t i can’t

City Deer #17

some mornings it feels like the deer know i’m sober struggling struggling struggling they don’t
care but it feels like they know there’s some comfort in that i like that they don’t make a big deal
out of it

City Deer #18

they don’t swallow clay i don’t swallow clay nothing that can run through the woods ever wants
to be a statue

Darren C. Demaree is the author of ten poetry collections, most recently Lady, You Shot Me, which was published by 8th House Publishing. He is the recipient of a 2018 Ohio ArtsCouncil Individual Excellence Award, the Louis Bogan Award from Trio House Press, and the Nancy Dew Taylor Award from Emrys Journal. He is the Managing Editor of the Best of the Net Anthology and Ovenbird Poetry. He is currently living in Columbus, Ohio with his wife and children.

Art: reoccurring dreams, acrylic and marker on 10×8 inch canvas
Artist Statement: It is the repetition in both the poem and art that pulled these two together for me. I also can’t shake seeing the large circular spots in this painting as “bright eyes magic without the constellation.”