Poetry Issue 24


Geoffrey G O’Brien


Light dark then light again.
A black and white image of
A man on his back in the snow,
Blank side up. He awaits
The beginning of a general eve,
Time that won’t quite arrive
In the gap between what is
Had and can’t yet be
Otherwise imagined. This
The period style: to leave
Your body for nothing, return
All mornings but one,
A kind of French exit.
Walser’s dead. Work is too
Much, a madness poetry almost
Successfully resists, staring
Up at the blank sky
But you know how that
Silent conversation goes
And where. Distance
Enters the face to look out,
Eavesdropping on
The unconcluded hence
Perfect game. One
Feels a little accessory,
Dim glow of the screen. Light
Then light then light again.
No, the facts are these. Suez
And Hungary, steel strikes,
The battle of Algiers.
Hail in April, Christmas
In July. This is now
But what’s it during, snow
That falling out of step
With time for too long
Seems to hang white
On the wrong side of
Some trees. They’re going
To try to keep it.