Simon Perchik
2 Poems
What did they see that my cheeks
can’t take the weight, each eye
filling with the stone
it once was, my hand cold
lying so close and every yearmore stars –it’s natural
to work the swing shift
feel my way back and the light
from all the stars at once
useless, giving out, is rock again
and between each star the sun
still looking for its echo
for a sun weaker than itselfand calling –the distance
is the sun they must have seen
before its twin veered off
before the darkness –must have seen
the return as nothing but light
and glory, glory, the only sound
from my eyes, from my arms and calling.*
This radio loose, its voice
aroused at night :the static
impatient –there’s no faceno arms, no breasts –all I see
is the climbing turn
for stars and that fleece lined jacketfilling with light
drifts into another evening
–the song widens, tightens–all those stars at once
to come when told, the sky
led forward by a fire it never seesa voice and rapture, its face
devoured, no lips, no thighs
–what’s left is what’s blueis the way I sing along
half frozen –without the jacket
holding on to my hand.