Two Poems


Ryan Clark





History About Cave Creek

for Cave Creek, Oklahoma, no longer a town



The washed

away things

we are way back

and early,

dust hung red

as embers

wearing out—


we tend to leave

in a form of flight

that finds us

losing where

we started.


Cave Creek

is a school—


we all walked

to school.





The Wichita



When the span of language

read the region into Wichita,

each sound tread native,

lived in cones, all grass

houses a shared vowel

to describe home.


The people’s eyes raccooned,

fitted around the face proud-

dotted with dark spots

tossed off from absence

shaking the semi-permanent

villages of the Wichita.


We are ideal trading posts,

with peace taken to others

periodically. A visit to the Wichita

is mapped, and their vicinity

is Texas, or, in good time

the United States of America.


Is the surface of the prairie

as broken as the Wichita

sounds for prairie, as broken

as the need for language.

Is the photograph of a word

all we retrace in this.









Ryan Clark is obsessed with puns and writes much of his work through a unique method of homophonic translation.  He is the author of How I Pitched the First Curve (Lit Fest Press, 2019) and his poetry has recently appeared in Yemasse, The Shore, riverSedge, Flock and Homonym.  He is a winner of the 2018 San Antonio Writers Guild contest and his work has been nominated for Best of the Net.  He currently teaches creative writing at Waldorf University in Iowa.