25.
by Jen Frantz

I love my murk,
fish I watched
for evenings,
saying to hell
with this or that.
I once knew
a street that
ended—
how generous
to deposit us
beyond people,
where the water
starts in earnest.
I see thought,
its velvet moving—
the center of
the mind belongs
to me, simple,
rained on, snail
and its radio,
beginning today
simple glory.

Jen Frantz is a college dropout from Ohio. Her poems have been published or are forthcoming in Prelude, Sporklet, and Washington Square Review. She will be attending the Iowa Writers' Workshop in the fall.