Skip to content

      1

I broke off the dangling shrub     and inserted it     above my ear.

Bent in at the belly     I sweated,     to fit     to try to fit.

      2

The dangling shrub     was bruised

It moved a little move     and Lady Song-of-Jamestown

said in my hear: Why     is broken.

      3

Spooked     I

leapt     a leafy thwart

into my thinking vessel     the aluminum canoe

and in my here said Lady Song-of-Jamestown:

"Why     its smelters long ago felled at The-Task-Is-

    Incomplete,     a falling

artist felling them     name of

The-Coriander-of-Mother-and-Child

who wears     crown of shells     partly concealing

a turban of layered light."

      4

I stared straight ahead,     paddling

My canoe walls hung with barkcloth     a giant dentalium

and four figureheads in lignified paste     (We watching).

The ivory one, called     Tapping-Out-of-Time.

And the dark muscular one,     Below-the-Galleon-Decks.

And the remembered one named,     Palm-Thatch-Floor.

And the little one called,     Fruit-of-the-Distant-Weep

    (mothered black,     from sleeping).

      5

Lady Song-of-Jamestown     mending her fishnets

pulled the water-hook     from my hand.

from Flagelliform 61: Tilted Away

Shane Book

More from
Poem of the Week

Elizabeth Winslow

America

translated from the Arabic written by
Dunya Mikhail
Clayton Eshleman

Januneid

translated from the Spanish written by
Cesar Vallejo