rub your eyes
& see nothin’
more than the flicker of candle flames
burnin’ dry grass still thirsty after april rains
hear as each tells the same story
differently ‘round the family dinner table
think ‘bout colors how
their brush hairs thick with paint gloss one over the other
‘til the picture dithers
& you no longer see what is
& you no longer are
what you are
& all are just wavin’
their wild hands
To submit a poem, please send an email with the poem attached to [email protected]. We’re looking for previously unpublished works of no more than 30 lines by Texas poets who have not been published by the Observer in the last two years. Pay is $100 on publication. Poems are selected by Poetry Editor Lupe Mendez, the 2022 Texas poet laureate and author of Why I Am Like Tequila.
