Michael J. Kolb

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folded wrong

the seam
would not lie flat

every shirt
a question
every mirror
an inquest
every touch
finds the fault line

I am the archaeology
of what held anyway
stitched terrain
subsided ground

a body that learned
the wrong lesson
still here
still folded wrong

still the thing
that did not break
but never quite returned
to its original shape

Michael J. Kolb is a poet, educator, and archaeologist based in Colorado.  He writes across disciplines, exploring nature, memory, and illness, asking what we carry and what we leave behind. His collection What Keeps Me Looking Out the Window was a finalist for the 2026 Press 53 Award. His poems have appeared in The Shore, Third Wednesday, ONE ART, Sky Island Journal, Eunoia Review, San Antonio Review,  Trampoline, The Ekphrastic Review, and elsewhere. He lives with his family and dogs where the mountains, shoreline, and changing weather continually shape his sense of place. 

Find him on Instagram at @michaeljkolb and on Substack at substack.com/@michaeljkolb.