Manifestations: A Poem by Nathanael O’Reilly
I urge like a red lacquered / fingernail tapping a car / window, rat-tat-tat-ing, exclaiming / over there! faster than words
“If prose is a house, poetry is a man on fire running quite fast through it.”
—Anne Carson
I urge like a red lacquered / fingernail tapping a car / window, rat-tat-tat-ing, exclaiming / over there! faster than words
presume you bite a tomato the same way a man chomps an apple
These poems are not art / They are burial instructions
Here is what I know: silence has a sound.
look how the wet seeks the sand
Picasso’s eyes no longer saw for themselves
The April day scorns your true beauty.
I wrap myself into an effigy, a portraiture of a phoenix
Small children sometimes understand truths better than adults do
'Wonder Engine' and 'Old Sons' by Jane Zwart