Smoky Blue Literary and Arts Magazine #6

Page 48

[untitled] Dragging one leg you dust the way sunlight changes colors once it touches down and this rag spreading out along the limp that carries you away wiping off weeds, winds and those webs spiders are taught to listen with just their shadow for distances –you smother as if one death would point where the others let you and cover the Earth with mouths that never close though you tug, taking root in wobble, losing hold strutting into these corners pulled by a closeness that is not dirt or moving. Simon Perchik Simon Perchik is an attorney whose poems have appeared in Partisan Review, The Nation, Poetry, Osiris, The New Yorker and elsewhere. His most recent collection is Almost Rain, published by River Otter Press.


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