This week, a poem by Jill McDonough.

 

You Are Her

 

Susan points
out whenever
you see a map
in the wild,
the map says YOU
ARE HERE
but everyone points
to the same spot, touches
the E, so it rubs off,
says YOU ARE HER.

You are her
when she says this: you
see it, you are Susan
in the wild, Susan
of the Plexi-covered
map, Susan at the OK
Corral. Susan seven, smirking
at Tomorrowland. Susan
at the Civic Center, Pike’s
Peak, Baker Beach, Golden
Gate. At the liquid shift
of frazil ice thick
as lava below Lower
Yosemite Fall. You’re
what’s there, there
no longer there, visible
made invisible, HERE
now, HER.

——

Three-time Pushcart prize winner JILL McDONOUGH is the recipient of Lannan, NEA, Cullman Center, and Stegner fellowships. Her most recent book is Reaper (Alice James, 2017); Here All Night, her fifth collection, is forthcoming from Alice James Books. She teaches in the MFA program at UMass-Boston and directs 24PearlStreet, the Fine Arts Work Center online.



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