A poem by Patrick Moran

We’re happy to continue presenting work from our readers at the upcoming Augury Books & Friends offsite AWP reading/shindig in Seattle. The reading will be at Noble Neon, 3130 Airport Way S on Friday, February 28th from 7:30 until we all feel like going back to our hotels. If you’ll be in Seattle, please join us! Today’s poem is by Patrick Moran and is the title poem for The Book of Lost Things, winner of the first Augury Editors’ Prize.

Photo by Dave Bledsoe of FreeVerse Photography

The Book of Lost Things

In the book of lost things you appear on page twenty-


The text next to your picture doesn’t dwell on details

as much as it tries to capture a mood.

You also appear on page forty-one as a charm bracelet

and page ninety-nine as a tooled cowboy belt.

Read in quick succession the entries begin to form a

composite of a more expansive definition of loss.

The authors, as you would imagine, are a society of

scrupulously devoted ne’er-do-wells.

Inevitably, a significant portion of the Book of the Lost

is perceived as the Book of the Found.

This inherent duality creates cross-references problems

of nightmarish proportions.

Just think of it, on page three you and everyone you

know is missing a brain cell.

And on pages nine and ten your virginity smiles impishly

for the cameras.

from The Book of Lost Things, Augury Books Editors’ Prize Winner 2012, available for order here

Patrick Moran is a 1995 graduate of the Iowa Writer’s Workshop. He is the author of four books of poetry, Tell A Pitiful Story, MWPH, (2011), Doppelgangster, Main Street Rag Press, (2012), The Book of Lost Things, Augury Books, (2012), Rumors of Organized Crime, Poems & Plays’ 2013 Tennessee Chapbook Prize winner. He is also the author of “The Ampersand: Casual Vortex or Engraver’s Shortcut,” which appeared in the 2013 September issue of The Writer’s Chronicle. His poems and translations have appeared in many journals including the New Republic, The Antioch Review, The Prairie Schooner, The Southern Review and The Boston Review. He is currently an associate professor of creative writing at the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater.  His lives in Fort Atkinson, WI, with his wife, the painter Bethann Moran, and their three children.