A Month of Sundays
- 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 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.
