What is it damns the eye?—. Asymmetry In ecological dynamics?—. What dams The eye?—. Trends of the autumnal trees’ Later colorings, and on delay, migrations, Or migrations, as the robins in November Clamor in the Russian Olive, forgotten?—. And who while crying out remembers No one, not angels, not animals, no one Hears that cry?—. Even the one crying Doesn’t hear?—. A lever of infinite Length can lift an infinite weight, or am I Lying?—. A bee could land on a bloom and lift The world up?—. Or a butterfly?—. Beauty Reckons terror?—. O, bees—. O, butterfly—.
(This poem is available in our store as a broadside signed by the author.)
Art & Craft
—for Daniel Johnston and Michael O’Malley
There is a brick. It has a name. The name is not your own. The brick could name you brick But doesn’t. It doesn’t want a mouth. In being closed nothing is alone.
There is a jar. It represents a jar. It has no eyes but it looks all around. Looking closer makes it more difficult To see. A tear drop of ash. A lip Made of earth. Pride is the litter on the ground.
There is a table. It’s made of scrap. Hours search out their errors. There is a patch for the crack in the wood Some call love. Then there is the damage Of repair to repair. It has a name
It wants to forget. This is a poem. It exists By not exactly existing. Three times Blessed is a name put in a song. Brick. Jar. Table. The hours are up in the air. So is the error. And the emptiness you learn
To make to stand inside what’s empty. The deaf note and the death mote. The remnant that grows excessive. That understands you. You Who are who you are.
Dan Beachy-Quick is a poet and essayist, author most recently of gentlessness (Tupelo, 2015) and a chapbook, Shields & Shards & Stitches & Songs (Omnidawn, 2015). He directs the MFA Program in Creative Writing at Colorado State University.