Rorschach for the Little Commonwealth
—G.C. Waldrep

It was my job to register the flames I copied each into my black book
There was always one chair more than necessary, which comforted me
Never at any time did I look away from my task
I was diligent you might say devoted even
So you will understand that I never laid eyes on the ark as it passed by
Filled with animals, pedestrians, echoes
My ink was a loom & I wove pathos from it, I was up all night
Because it was only at night
That the flames each the shape of perfect rest came to be registered

G.C. Waldrep

G.C. Waldrep’s most recent books are feast gently (Tupelo, 2018), winner of the William Carlos Williams Award from the Poetry Society of America, and the long poem Testament  (BOA Editions, 2015). Waldrep lives in Lewisburg, Pa., where he teaches at Bucknell University and edits the journal West Branch.

ISSN 2472-338X
© 2019