You don’t read how weak it was…

You don’t read how weak it was
though this windtorn composition book
steadies its lettering for afternoons

the way beginners wave their arms
making room for the Honor Roll
mixed with stone, not yet the pages

– these dead are used to it: words
put together by a still-warm crayon
and you too no longer move

leave them nothing except an afterall
in writing and on these sheets
hillsides to fit inside your name

holding it between your fingers, higher
and from the struggling dirt, over and over
making mountains, clocks, emptiness.

Simon Perchik is an attorney whose poems have appeared in Partisan Review, Forge, Poetry, Osiris, The New Yorker and elsewhere. His most recent collection is The B Poems, published by Poets Wear Prada, 2016. For more information, including free e-books and his essay titled “Magic, Illusion and Other Realities”, please visit his website at http://www.simonperchik.com.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to You don’t read how weak it was…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s