Work by David Shumate

  1. His Wife’s Ashes

    Posted in Poetry, November 2009

    “When the old man famous for radishes showed up at the com­mu­nity gar­den with his wife’s ashes in an urn, we gath­ered round for a short eulogy. He recalled that late night three decades ago when filled with hap­pi­ness she stepped onto the lawn in her bra and panties and sang a lit­tle Verdi...”

    read more »

  2. Suicide

    Posted in Poetry, November 2009

    “Each week in the obit­u­ar­ies you read about a few more. Though they don’t men­tion how the woman weary of this world walked into the mor­tu­ary, sat in a wing-backed chair, pulled a revolver from her purse and dis­charged a bul­let into her tem­ple to ease the bur­den on her family...”

    read more »

  3. Vagabond

    Posted in Poetry, November 2009

    “I am part of the ancient tra­di­tion of going away. The art of leav­ing every­thing behind. I set fire to my maps years ago when I saw through all their lies. I know north by the smell of buf­falo. And south by its tangerines...”

    read more »