-
B48, and: B23, and: B11
- Prairie Schooner
- University of Nebraska Press
- Volume 79, Number 3, Fall 2005
- pp. 28-31
- 10.1353/psg.2005.0132
- Article
- Additional Information
- Purchase/rental options available:
Prairie Schooner 79.3 (2005) 28-31
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Three Poems
Simon Perchik
B48
You will hide, try
point to your forehead
almost remember where the mournersput the dirt back
so even you won't know the difference
– you need more dirt :a skywith one cloud then another
filled with stones and gasping for air
so you will think it's the grassesthat have forgotten where to go
have nothing left to do
the way funerals still come by [End Page 28]as if rain no longer mattered at night
and the kiss someone once gave you
– you won't eat anymore :the breezewill step back, go slack, cover you
though there's not enough room
with distances and longing.
B23
Already weightless these steps
don't need the morning
back away as that emptinessstars are used to
– you can hear them narrowing
creaking and from behindwait for the sun to open fire
flash past your forehead
though you can't make outthe week or year or the cloud
that knows you're there
comes for you between more rainand mountainside still standing
no longer growing grass
can't love or remember [End Page 29]– you hide the way this attic
opens inside a door
that is not a flower– an iron knob
that turns away nothing
and in your arms nothing, nothing.
B11
You mourn the way this sand
has no strength, keeps warm
between one day and anotherand your closed hands
that need the place
left by a small stonedropping slowly in water
though what rests here
is the emptiness already mistand nothing starts again
– you dig as if this beach
blossoms once your fingersopen and these dead
lose their way among the flowers
that no longer come home [End Page 30]– you kneel easily now
pulled down by your shadow
following head first as rainheavier and heavier
tracing a face with just your lips
and worn out nod.
...