Fall 2006

How well its square
fit my palm, my mouth,
a toasty wafer slipped
onto the sick tongue
or into chicken soup,

each crisp saltine a tile
pierced with 13 holes
in balanced rows,
its edges perforated
like a postage stamp,

one of a shifting stack
sealed in wax paper
whose noisy opening
always signaled snack,
peanut butter or cheese

thick inside Premiums,
the closest we ever got
to serving hors d'oeuvres:
the redneck's hardtack,
the cracker's cracker.


—Michael McFee



Michael McFee has two new books out in 2006: his seventh collection of poetry, Shinemaster, and his first book of prose, The Napkin Manuscripts: Selected Essays and an Interview. He lives in Durham, North Carolina.