{"id":1264,"date":"2011-10-04T02:42:15","date_gmt":"2011-10-04T02:42:15","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/?page_id=1264"},"modified":"2011-10-04T22:54:37","modified_gmt":"2011-10-04T22:54:37","slug":"larry-thacker-1011","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/larry-thacker-1011\/","title":{"rendered":"Larry Thacker"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>Blood &amp; Kudzu<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>I walked the grounds of my conception,<br \/>\nhunting through the crawling green for some<br \/>\nsentimentality, perhaps expecting un-riddled<br \/>\nthings to speak from the ground of my past.<br \/>\nI returned, horrified, a confusing smell of Kudzu<br \/>\nand disturbed soil laced in my skin, cocooning any<br \/>\npossibility of reunion. For three days I waited,<br \/>\nreliving the lesson\u2019s emptiness, until the last<br \/>\nhints of disappointment floated away.<\/p>\n<p>Nothing remains of where I\u2019m from. No thing.<br \/>\nNo struggling root or stem. No whispering sigh.<br \/>\nNo half-exposed garbage hinting as to what was.<br \/>\nThere is only the clean, guiltless absence of sound,<br \/>\ndeep green and slow, moving when you aren\u2019t looking.<\/p>\n<p>For Kudzu conspires to murder our memories.<br \/>\nIn the deepest summer days its vine and leaf will choke<br \/>\nover a body or a bloodstain \u2013 evidence of you \u2013 overnight.<br \/>\nThis is the best place to kill thoughts of a missing home.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Blood &amp; Kudzu I walked the grounds of my conception, hunting through the crawling green for some sentimentality, perhaps expecting un-riddled things to speak from the ground of my past. I returned, horrified, a confusing smell of Kudzu and disturbed soil laced in my skin, cocooning any possibility of reunion. For three days I waited, [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"parent":934,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1264","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v24.2 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>Larry Thacker - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/larry-thacker-1011\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Larry Thacker - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Blood &amp; Kudzu I walked the grounds of my conception, hunting through the crawling green for some sentimentality, perhaps expecting un-riddled things to speak from the ground of my past. I returned, horrified, a confusing smell of Kudzu and disturbed soil laced in my skin, cocooning any possibility of reunion. 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I returned, horrified, a confusing smell of Kudzu and disturbed soil laced in my skin, cocooning any possibility of reunion. 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