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
People on couch
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