Tag Archives: Simon Perchik

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by Simon Perchik

To live like that, listening
as the sudden dive to the bottom
and though your mouth longs for a sea

death happens wherever water goes
–you hear the rain passing by
with shells and salt flaking off

from a dress that is still new
covered with moss and grieving
–you slip your hand through

as if each sleeve over and over
is filled with moss not yet blossoming
where the branches at the top

dig themselves in, opening the Earth
and the small stones that are your lips
filled with falling and thirst.

 

Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 19, Issue 1.

Simon PerchikSimon Perchik is an attorney whose poems have appeared in Partisan Review, The Nation, Poetry, The New Yorker, and elsewhere. His most recent collection is Almost Rain, published by River Otter Press (2013). Visit www.simonperchik.com.

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Volume 17, Issue 3 is Now Online

CPR Volume 17, Issue 3Cider Press Review, Volume 17, Issue 3 is now online. Enjoy new poems by M. Ross Henry, Carmen Germain, Catherine Moore, Erin Rodoni, Sarina Bosco, Diana Smith Bolton, SarahJordan Stout, Christina Seymour, Jan Bottiglieri, Sara Henning, Allison Joseph, Corrie Williams Kentner, Anthony Botti, Kathleen Brewin Lewis, Doug Ramspeck, Elise Gregory, Julia Bouwsma, Knud Sorensen (Translated by Michael Goldman), Jess Williard, Adam Penna, Jennifer Stewart Miller, Katie Manning, Eloisa Amezcua, Givhan Jennifer, Ann E. Michael, Simon Perchik, Sara Biggs Chaney, Jacqueline Balderrama, Alessandra Bava, Tina Richardson, and Alina Stefanescu. Reviews of Spencer Reece, Laura Madeline Wiseman, and Anne Marie Macari by David Seter, Corrinne Adams, and Cindy Snow.

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by Simon Perchik

These petals taking command, the flower
pinned down and the work stops
–your breath dragged back

where it’s safe and in your lungs
hides the way each sky is named
after the word for stone

for this small grave each Spring
the dirt adds to till suddenly
you are full height, your lips

defending you against the cold
waiting it out in your mouth
–they too want you to talk

to call them by name
say what they sound like
turning away, alone, alone and alone.
 

Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 17, Issue 3.

Simon PerchikSimon Perchik is an attorney whose poems have appeared in Partisan Review, The Nation, Poetry, The New Yorker, and elsewhere. His most recent collection is Almost Rain, published by River Otter Press (2013). Visit www.simonperchik.com.

See all items about Simon Perchik

Visit Simon Perchik’s contributors page.