Four Palimpsests


Aaron Bauer





Palimpsest of Your Last Smile



A little over half

is the

hear and see.


The Halfway House.  You



hear the tramps



You will


hollow, wedge yourself

into hearing the jubilant

hundred years.


Alpine grass


watered by a snow-field.


hear drums.


So much.

Here was that queer


moving abroad.  The humming-bird


which performs

to hear.





Palimpsest of America



Use the wings

the red-shafted flicker’s


wings.  They should look



like they have already.

Do not deny your half-brother


then, and





Here is what you see:


numberless farms,



mountain chickadees,



Mountain sides

are lyrical


dresses over

the train’s rigid stanza.





Palimpsest of the Singer






of mountains


whose nests I see in stores.


He asked



of the pines,





holding silent

converse as identity forms.


Please, please

he blushes



as blood begins

to drip.





Palimpsest of Patriotism



And many more


rest in the

Halfway House.


A spot on the ground



one hundred years

that I decided to sweep up


indicating people


like a banner, like

a flag, like a false peace


hidden beneath an over-arching


side of


history on the cusp

of memory.








Aaron Bauer is a Pushcart-nominated poet and educator living in Colorado.  He received his MFA from the University of Alaska, Fairbanks.  His work has appeared in Prism Review, Inertia, Poemeleon and others.  He has served as Editor for Permafrost and is a Contributing Editor for  His chapbook Colloquy of Sparrows is available from Blue Lyre Press.