Evidende that We Are Descended from Chairs

What is the national anthem of the country Andrew Merton inhabits? I think I hear ukuleles and the off-key bleats of a cracked bone kazoo riffing out its tune. The music reminds us of the taste of five tart bites of a last peach of our mothers ashes of a galaxy blooming in a worn wicker basket. Relish these poems that will linger in your ear like a lovers cry. In the motherland of our broken and patched human minds Merton sketches times passage in lines as fluid as a leaf in an uncertain breeze. Most of all Merton teaches us to be a poem at any given moment of our lives. --Jeanie Thompson