restricted access A Month of Sundays
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A Month of Sundays

To say yes is to bepretty, sort of,to somebody. Thatsomebody wouldask are you it?

A view views an inter-as if a kind of canal…

then uses it to view somesort of other view. A kind

of barometer. Ridiculous,maybe, but maybe true.

Is any other, could it be, a booktoo—a sort of ship as I felt I’ve been,

in a slip, or sailing through a seaof kelp? For the mast I make

a novel, for the hatches and casks,the rats and the spyglass (avast ye!),

for the buckler and sash, an ear-and-a-half; and in the order written. [End Page 113]

I’ve never been—only to oneplace, this one; that was years

ago. (I’m still there.) And in,too (still), an insistence: to dam

a backyard stream, lose my wayin the middle of a city, light

my way because the brightnessof the day gave me a bad map. [End Page 114]

Terrence Chiusano

Terrence Chiusano is the author of the chapbook On Generation and Corruption: Parts I and II (Handwritten Press, 2003) and was a finalist for the 2011 National Poetry Series. His poems have appeared in Cordite Poetry Review, Yellow Field, Kenning, Ixnay, Queen Street Quarterly, and elsewhere.


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