Order this writing in the collection book we the Poets available for only $1395 |
|
Order this writing in the collection book Life on the Edge this huge volume is available for only $2395 |
|
This appears in a pre-2010 issue
|
||
|
Way Past Fall
Joshua Copeland
I reach and reach
And reach and grab nothing,
The air whistles in between my fingers
And the clouds siphon every
Last living cell from me—that cluster of bodies,
That jumble of claymation,
They’re just that way,
He or she tells me, I promise
To thrust myself upon their
Backs and bite down
Hard into their skin, memorizing their
Leathery hides, their tangle of
Blue veins. Stuffed
They’re all stuffed with gore, with the meaty flesh of the beast.