Sara Lier has a great poem in the Summer 2011 issue of OVS Magazine, "The First Time I Cut my Knee". It has a simplicity to it that is rarely combined with grace, which is to her credit. She totally pulls it off. Definite subject matter often limits people, stunting the agility of their words, but this is a great, Wallace Stevens-like piece in tone, here's an excerpt:
It was August.
The yard was full
of crabgrass like cheap jade.
[...]
I knew where to find
loquats and lemon trees.
I was not a runaway. [...]
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