- The Odyssey
Though every day uncertainty addsnew currents to the latitudes between us
I put my pants on three legs at a timeI shove my meaty arms through skinny tunics
and wrap my fingers around the green throatseach flower sips the sky through
this bouquet I'm gathering for youthe sea keeps tearing from my hands
because I tell it I am not its citizenI love the lighthouse for the compassion not the fear that built it
and even though the sea tries to fool mewith distant shimmers with depthless glinting
even though it knits to nothingthe wake my skiff seams into it
because these days I wantwhat any oar-sore body wants
a life that other lives respond toeven a mouse biting at the pulse in my wrist
even should you turn from the muscle of my voiceas it softens into fear
I will cross the sea like any other streetthat runs between our houses
petals strewn and tramped into the cobblesby some Carnival parade
I am a one-man parade of devotion.I float towards you on the rain's myriad spines
I break every second they stand between us [End Page 68]
Conor Bracken has recent work appearing or forthcoming in The Adroit Journal, Forklift OH, Muzzle, The New Yorker, and THRUSH among others. He lives in Texas with his wife and dog, where he assistant directs a university writing center.