Walk the Mile

These minnow heads over swallowed bits of words,
these atop music with a barbed stem,
making adjectives on whims of ferried thought—
lease it and cease pretend,
tend it and pend release:
They become the critical,
the fractalized shell of an embossed nautilus
in a fossilized bed of old sea floor,
fires heard well but unseen,
hail melting though reporting.

These doggers and praisers, do they know?
How should they be impressed if not
malleable and near enough the mold?
These judge-persons, are they outside,
or walked so far in
as to be the house itself?

 

* * *

Robin J. Morrison is a student currently living in Iowa City with his wife, son, and newborn daughter. He has had poems published (as Ray Succre) in Aesthetica, Poets and Artists, and Pank, as well as in numerous other journals across as many countries. His various novels are widely available in print and online, and Other Cruel Things (2009), a collection of poetry, is available from Differentia Press.

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