Five poems by Simon Perchik
*
These
windows know all about lakes
hiding
among the dead –by instinct
the
glass freezes, just so
and
slowly you carve two initials
as
if the name underneath
would
follow the way a small hole
heats
the ice, lures the fish closer
taking
hold though the glare
is
already marshland, drains
where
one finger let go
the
other and the room fills
counts
on you to come.
*
This
bloom still reckless, its heat
breaking
into the furious hum
bugs
use for melting snow
–there’s
no interest in romance
though
every winter now
is
warmed, takes hold your hand
by
brushing against the dirt
risks
its place to lure you, naked
in
front the house, her breasts
surrounded
and across your tongue
a
lingering darkness welcomes them
knows
nothing why your fingers smell
from
avalanche and salt
and
never had that taste for sweets
moving
mouth to mouth
snatching
things up, louder and louder
certain
this frost is frost, named
so
soon after its birth and yours.
*
Hopeless!
you add more salt
the
way another spoonful
rows
you across, the spray
clouding
over with shoreline
–this
soup has to be heated again
spread
out as if night after night
you
need a bigger pot
already
with its darkness
caked
on to these stars coming by
so
early –to the same place
and
for a second time are trembling
cling
without touching your face.
*
You
reach into that darkness
stars
return for, are cooled
and
yet you open the mail
slowly
so in each envelope
the
letter folding over and over
still
falls out as mist
covers
the ground
almost
to a boil –you retrace
the
way the blind find shelter
and
with just your fingertips
empty
the small fire
hidden
behind the others
waiting
for its shadow
cut
off from home
and
at the slightest touch.
*
Splash
is how this stone
remembers
squeezing your hand
then
letting go, covers the ground
with
seawater though you
can’t
taste the salt
and
inside each embrace
the
first thunderclap and shrug
no
longer dries, your shoulders
falling
now as loneliness
then
sand –you listen
the
way all marble is crushed
drowns
from the same gesture
that
takes you arm in arm
bathes
you tighter and tighter
for
pebbles and caring.
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