In the meantime
I rely
on the perimeter,
the armored night time,
the precise shirt,
the reckless stain.
A drained look
from the barman.
I sense a shift
within the stage white
of his eye. Grime
is a coat painted
in duress. Fearing
occasional thunder,
sloshing by
the bathwater
of a joyously
drunken voice,
its flailing delicate
crust,
“Phrases with out imaginative and prescient
are disadvantaged of stability.”
Sand
His footing is mild itself. A slim shepherd of wolves, his enamel are momentary lights that sting our eyes, excursions. His loss of life rattle shapes the forest ground. A sudden hand splits timbers of oak. You’re a worn-out movie taking part in in my coronary heart. When it’s lastly darkish, the enchanted our bodies start to slide from between the cypress. I swell, tired of the identical longing, the solar emerges as a brief sq.. Shadows tilt, you linger simply out of attain. A fountain gurgles within the sq., lulling me to sleep. Our mornings are nonetheless secret, you greet my soul sending a rested wave. I might by no means flip outright chilly, swathes of blood at night time obscure my imaginative and prescient. Our boredom is a daughter of indiscretion, reminiscence pleads on the similar bronze gate. Trim down these clouds of mud, the air continues to be any longer. My eyes flip clear and mirrored on the foot of the spring
(After G. Ungarretti)
Siren of Atlantis
I’ve strayed too far off the block for mine personal form
and writing will not be essentially modifying proper now if it is the amusement of disguise
over disappearance. If it is change into all about dressing properly and getting again to gallerists whereas nonetheless in my plucked helmet storming about. Is it a generative loneliness? Like rebuilding my physique inside a passage of sunshine? Is that this the precise key for the empty condo? Jay is studying Valerie Larbaud in a tangle
of sunshine at springtime. Which particular title escapes my imaginative and prescient however
the platinum tip of my tail is underwriting each emotive and syllabic outburst,
each occasion of enraged punctuation and jealousy over not sleeping over
the place there isn’t any supposed manger to start with. The place I’m to be aired out previous to introduction. Aware of his unbelievable feats of disappearance carried off
within the alleyways of a Greenpoint night time. I bow my employees upon a skinned knee.
Glad to be a so-called music author once more, a bit one thing coming in.
Whisking all of it up, draped in fats traces down a darkish room, slamming shut
the so known as ambiance of music.
Cedar Sigo is a poet and member of the Suquamish Nation. His most up-to-date books are Saint of the Abyss from Spiral Editions and Occasional Objects, a e-book of collaborations written with Simon Wolf from Discovered Poem Press. Siren of Atlantis is forthcoming from Wave Books in April 2025. He lives in Lofall, Washington.
