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The Guides To Ossabaw Joseph Young
Ossabaw, GA // Baltimore, MD // 2011
Bed Oyster watch the feet, wash the feet, tanning breaks of water.
1 Minute That bird and not.
Micro/fiction Pulled up waiting, smoke from the glass.
Salt-crosses The long slant of sand, 2 or 3 blues or azure.
Handed It put a blue slot of paint, the lefting river. Center band, middle place, lefting water.
White-orange & Black It didnâ€™t come out, hose rust, cab, palm. Grass will not wrap the shoe.
Log It’d been in the mud, some kind of wire thing. Over it tracks of another thing. He could have had tired eyes—finally cleared. She wouldn’t go home, the salt on the bottom of the shoes, the walking crabs. Black would come over the water over the water. The doctor toed the frond, scaring out whatever was in it. While it ran over the sand he sighed. This was late, shadow in the trees, so maybe late enough.
Brought forth by a week on Ossabaw Island, Georgia, February 2011.
Thanks to Jim Bitler, Judy Mooney, Christine Sajecki, Gypsy Leonardi, Imke Lass, Donna, Samantha Claar, Paul Mitchell, Daisy, Lesja Cymbaly, Mary Hartman, Glo Coalson, David Smalls, Melinda Borysevicz, Molly Hall, Tracy Concha, & Sandy West.
Front cover image based on a photograph by Christine Sajecki.
My stay in Ossabaw