Nights
Joseph Spece
I
As with Franz Marc's Deer in the Forest:
one fawn is always closer to the Cubist
fragment of back and foreground than others, closer
to evolution through rupture.
II
Lowly as gum, and with the same ruminant
consistency, I stood hitched to your bruises.
The hue of the thether so violet-black
I thought myself second to a king.
III
Being a starfish radially cut down
to a single chunk. Then:
to grow back incidentally a person
without the viscera prone to othering.
IV
The immolated dusk of a rich October.
And a dryad's long shadow recalls twice
the split xylem heart of her
owned sycamore.
V
Aplomb & Interior. And I've kept the dark soft and full for you
as flowers or red melon on the verge of spoil.
Volume CXVIII, No.1
Poem found here.
Picture found here.
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