Short Film Starring My Beloved's Red Bronco by K Iver

Tupelo, MS

Crop dusters have gone missing. Storm Clouds, missing. Every 

owl has gone missing. Entire foothills. There are no dogwoods 

or foxes to miss them. Radio towers are missing. An archive has 

always been missing. Unmarked graves have not been missed;

have been missed to death. Downtown is missing, the hardware

store where Elvis bought his first guitar. The songs he robbed

from juke joints. Original names for the dirt have been miss-

ing a long time. The namers have not been missed; have been

missed terribly. A gospel just went missing. A gospel took all the

blood it needed for its metaphor to work. My lover went missing

today. My lover went missing fifteen years ago. When neighbors

spoke to him, they spoke to someone else. I found his old letters 

missing from their hat box. Each penciled word called from my

mother's chimney. The brick said nothing.