Simon Perchik

*
by Simon Perchik

You lower all doors
the way this knob
works it out where your hold

will slow the sound
waves make starting out
from the sea floor

and your hand stays wet
as if something you said
would fit inside the lips

your heart blows on
that shares its shoreline
between the sea and the shadow

cooling the mouth even seabirds
cover with their wings
their cries and turns.

 

Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 22, 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.

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