
Image by Maarten Holl
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Image by Maarten Holl
Andrew Johnston is the son of an English Professor, has had a successful career as a...
The Third Man
The moon men came down in time for the news.
Four. A woman’s hands busy at the bench
of pumpkin, spud, out of sight of a boy,
five, small. Occasional drawl of a moon man
above the white noise, of suds sucked down
a plughole, space laughing in the black gap
below Apollo Eleven. The boy
told his teacher he’d be Michael Collins,
the third one, orbiting, silent. Twice, because
she wasn’t sure she’d heard what he was saying.
Over the years I’ve become increasingly interested in the lyrical nature of poetry. I find that the more I’ve taken in...
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