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