What kind of spell is this hangman’s gibbetempty over a drop, exhibitQ: almost repentanceat the end of a sentence?
A mark, a sign, this shattered ampersandwhich in effect is half an and,and half a looking glass’s O,only an ink-dark shard below,
might hang on you a stupefying choice,make anybody’s forthright voicerise to only drop: indicatingan awkward waiting?
A God’s eye view of a horseshoe leaningnear a horsefly. Leaner, meaningless than ringer, but notnothing. Whatnot.
But the sickle with a drop of bloodbeneath the handle, that periodsuggesting hush might meanthe space between
the two is a definite no. Or nearly yes?Like love, a tease, perhaps a guess.The curve of an ear, an earringappearing.
The arrow’s arc: Eros’ ammunition:the whip-like tail of the sperm on a missionto began egg. [End Page 67]
JOHN POCH’s most recent book, Fix Quiet, won the 2014 New Criterion Prize. He currently directs the creative writing program at Texas Tech University.