from Resolved Question/Best Answer

Q : Do you have one side thatís worse than the other?

A : I have one mother who hasnít been places. Iím fourteen years old and less a history. A story here is the still of cloth hanging. In a small parking lot, the light dropping over you. When I get signals, I come here to plead. Tell me how the hail sings into your city. Make me the noise of your portable phone.

Q : Is this a puzzle?

A : In Germany, you can freshen your platelets up. In clinical light, you begin again. All this and we thought the world flat once. A thing unsolvable and temporary like at any given time its edges might claim you. Red alert: There are no puzzles. Only complex machines for which to be thankful. A puzzle implies your hands are tied. A puzzle you canít bring to the lake to produce sound while the lake dries off of you.


Thomas Kane was raised in Nashville, received an MFA from the University of Pittsburgh, and is currently in the last year of a PhD program in Creative Writing and English at the University of Missouri. Other poems from the Resolved Question/Best Answer sequence were recently in Sixth Finch, and other poems of his, in general, have appeared in Bat City Review, DIAGRAM, and McSweeney's, among others. He also edited and co-translated Tomaz Salamun's 2011 collection There's the Hand and There's the Arid Chair.