Joey Wańczyk

Dead Deer

after Jean Valentine

I’m carrying the dead deer
like all those before me—

twine tied around
my shoulders, straining my neck.

Deer blood, red as rust,
falling through gaps

in white deer teeth.
Passing through a cold river,

slipping toward oblivion—
I’d rather be sleeping.

Then I, no longer
drowning, stand up.

This river water,
this tugging tide,

merely a shoal
a foot high.

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Joey Wańczyk is a poet and writer based in Bloomington, Indiana. His work has previously appeared in Hello Mr. Magazine and Indiana University's Canvas Magazine. You will not find him on the internet.