Two poems by Cameron Morse

The Bigness of the Herd

I can never get over

the bigness

of the herd, the stampede

of clouds

cascading

over the warehouse,

I-70’s commercial

river of blood

lights: heads or

tails? Nothing

could be more

refreshing

than the southerly

wind of my

own insignificance.

I am small:

a small sign

welcoming

the palimpsest

of generations,

a small screen

in constant need

of refreshing.

My unborn daughter

is a reboot

on