Julianna Baggott

Suburban Landscape, Summer
July 25, 2016 Baggott Julianna

Suburban Landscape, Summer


Me, young and girlish, flesh not yet mourning.

A brittle twist and up blooms my yearning.


Turn me now, wrench my back, I’ll pop a dream

of candied purring. The neighbor men bear


down on the mowers’ fragile gaskets

And dream of sex while the weight of caskets


Is a memory stain on their shoulders,

Oh, the heaving of their fat dead brothers


Into the yawning rectangles of dirt.

And, yet beyond reason, they still flirt with


thawing, thawing, thawing. And I’m nothing

but a filament for youth’s fine moth-wing.

Julianna Baggott is the author of over twenty books including literary novels, four collections of poems, and weird whimsy for children. She’s published two New York Times Notable Books of the Year, an ALA Alex Award Winner, and Kirkus Best Book of the Year. She teaches in Florida State’s College of Motion Picture Arts and at the Vermont College of Fine Arts.