the actual act of forgetting

it hurts to remember
the laundry on the line
how I graphed the curves
I know the miles
our effigies traveled
without leaving
from soaked and heavy
and pulled down plumb
to dry and wild
in our frantic winds
snapping at the line
like dogs at leashes
to say nothing of the towels
to say nothing of the sheets
how our yard was a ship
how our sails tried 

Amy Bagwell's poems are recently (or will be) in Beloit Poetry Journal, New Ohio Review, Free State Review, High Shelf Press, where is the river, and storySouth. She makes text-based art and teaches English at Central Piedmont Community College in Charlotte, where she received an MFA from Queens University. (

Boxcar Poetry Review - ISSN 1931-1761