Hello, My Name Is Also
Jacques Rancourt

with a translated line from “Fils d’Horizon,” by Jacques Rancourt

So you already know we’ve placed ourselves in the nape of the rake. Copper harp. Sickle-
                                                           tongued. You know
each season we’ve braided strands of wheat into rope

to tie about our necks. My father, a Jacques Rancourt too,
split back the wormed casing
                                                       of a rotted tree to remind me
we open into fields. Dry haven. Corned breath. My father
Want to read the rest?
Please login.
New to Narrative? sign up.
It's easy and free.