WHAT YOU KNOW AFTER READING THE LAST PAGE FIRST
Wind in the asparagus says silk silk shhh. Wool drank the last of the spiced tea. Two mountain lion kittens stacked on a buck rail fence escaped the waiting coyote. A sketch of artificial wombs makes you think of giant plastic eggs and rubber chickens. It’s impossible to hide in a transparent egg. Only Tilda sleeps in a glass box. Begin again with afterbirth buried beneath the tree. Begin with chainsaw or sapling. Whistle softly what hymns you remember. Mallet the drum with grateful bounce. Because once you know how the story ends you question every paragraph, every parking space, every minute you spent digging through a bin of onions for un-torn skin. You count backwards from the last period and wish you didn’t know.
Diane LeBlanc is a writer, teacher, and book artist. Her poetry chapbooks include Sudden Geography (2014), Dancer with Good Sow (2008) and Hope in Zone Four (1998). Her poems and essays appear in Bellingham Review, Hayden’s Ferry Review, The Journal, Rhino, and other journals. Diane directs the writing program and teaches at St. Olaf College in Northfield, Minnesota. Website: dianeleblancwriter.com.