The Simple of If You Only is This
Today is the poem and it's a hard one
The sky fills wicked its pale mannequin
We pull it up over our faces cover our heads
The island is weeping and blank the stone
under all of your clothes here you are
Cold buries the clock so many sleeping giants
This is a house, that is a sorrow
This is a snow coal-white a vortex
and a flying thing And this is why
he loves it, why he holds it so tight
Twilight tugs the dewdrops into ice and the cars
burrrow “Take the winter in your mouth”
(He is talking to us both now) “Press its teeth
against your teeth. For you are a flying thing
my loves, and will be gone soon enough”
from Mordy Gets Enlightened, by Eric Raanan Fischman (The Little Door, 2017)
