The Wisdom is Hindsight

by Nancy Flynn
                       ~advice I would give my young writer-self

Settle into a chair,
reclining, poised.
Find the cradle,
the thrown-away river,
fear & crabgrass stitched from
a swimming-pool lawn.
Remember to be the sling        
back, there are often seats—
leatherette banquettes
from a jettisoned car beached
beside a dishwasher sideboard,
a chest freezer overturned.
The tension is between
hanging or fallen,    apart.  
There will always be angles.
The words will insist on
their scrap-yard tracks.  
Past discarded
sinks & vanities & tubs,          
crooked as a mouth of teeth,
where monster-toothed machines
ache the inexplicable
into depth.
Hellish, yet enchanting  
once unearthed.  
A ravine forever echoing
what’s said.
Nancy Flynn grew up on the Susquehanna River in northeastern Pennsylvania, spent many years on a downtown creek in Ithaca, New York, and now lives near the mighty Columbia in Portland, Oregon. She attended Oberlin College, Cornell University, and has an English M.A. from SUNY/Binghamton. Recipient of an Oregon Literary Fellowship, her recent books include Every Door Recklessly Ajar and Great Hunger. Her website is

© 2018, Nancy Flynn