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Notes On Utah

The salt flats smell like dusty fire.

Crickets like clomping of hooves, some horse pursuing ghosts.

I feel close to full. I feel a luck whose opposite was all I’ve known. This is the other side of the coin, silver as that goddamn moon.

The burned out body of a car on its side. She is standing naked in front of it. We eat lunch, go back in the rental. We leave the burned out car. She drives towards a ghost town. Yellow flowers along the road.

On the airplane back I ask if she remembers how big the moon had been. She says yeah, it was this big.

And she holds her hands together to make a circle the circumference of a coke can.

MATTHEW WALLENSTEIN is the 2022 winner of the Writer's Award for poetry from the Nassau Review. Matthew is the author of a short story collection Buckteeth and the poetry collection Tiny Alms. His work has been published by The University of Chicago, The Emerson Review, and The University of Maine Farmington, among others.


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