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ignatz invoked :: monica youn

by on September 15, 2016

A gauze bandage wraps the land
and is unwound, stained orange with sulfites.

A series of slaps molds a mountain,
a fear uncoils itself, testing its long

cool limbs. A passing cloud
seizes up like a carburetor

and falls to earth, lies broken-
backed and lidless in the scree.

Acetylene torches now snug
in their holsters, shop-vacs

trundled back behind the dawn.
A mist becomes a murmur, becomes

a moan rising from dust-choked
fissures in the rocks, O pity us,

Ignatz, O come to us by moonlight,
O arch your speckled body over the earth.


From → poems

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