Sunlight from a high windowÂ
Â
shows on the onionÂ
I am cutting. Â
The serrated vergeÂ
and a truthÂ
Â
peel away through skinÂ
by way of red clay flowing Â
until the spleen shinesÂ
Â
and to the knifeÂ
Â
gives way.Â
Heretofore PlentyÂ
Â
Desperate smallish beaksÂ
become a frenzied bushÂ
hungry for marrow, for fruitÂ
Â
and they lull the rest of usÂ
matrixed with phonesÂ
out of range from anyÂ
Â
towers built of Â
heretofore plenty.Â
Our having fledÂ
Â
leaves only silhouettes Â
burned into the wallÂ
like hiroshima graffiti.
ABOUT:
L. Ward Abel’s work has appeared in hundreds of journals (Rattle, Versal, The Reader, Worcester Review, Riverbed Review, others), including a recent nomination for a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net, and he is the author of three full collections and ten chapbooks of poetry, including his latest collection, The Width of Here (Silver Bow, 2021). He is a reformed lawyer, he writes and plays music, and he teaches literature. Abel resides in rural Georgia.
EDITOR'S SONG PAIRING:
Sleep In - Skinny Bones Remix by James Staub