Solstice
In certain dark
the moon issues this request:
to be the shadow on the pillow,
the glass candle near the door of sleep.
A hungry Stellar’s jay breaks berries into pulp,
while bats decorate the rafters, and
the wood pile moans under
its burden of fog.
As life encroaches on the dreaming
bedpost, you remember
a chip of ice you found in river
sludge, its sheen a mute witness
to increments of change
as lens and pure belief.
The Exercise
1.
unmoved
by will/choked by sun &
vessels holding water,
under gray adjectives
2.
lion of letters loop of lilies
the bird that swallowed
the cat
circadian sway
of science, its mirrors,
its cyphers,
a sand crab
tossed in a porcelain bowl
3.
remember what sins
you commit
then write shell, that which contains
a softer self
4.
stories hold the brackish
understory
the letters of refusal
(But fire will spread/despite your inclinations)
5.
In brine, a harvest of krill
his never spent notion : to be a water farmer
knee-deep in thistle
6.
He took his cure; mixed love with
blandishments:
checked his mortality at the door
7.
stayed to read the candled letter,
the windswept book of
resolves
8.
Who will outlast this life
Noun + seven
we perform the exercise
often we blush
at the strangeness of engines
Leaf
Nascent in leaf, splurge
of water marks the season’s
start, the flecked eggs found
under an ivy-facing frame.
Morning’s music is cellos
and the warp and weft
of waves curving
under the bridge where
once you stood and tied your
losses like a rope of stones.
When scenes were ended,
their blueness still supreme
reminder that we hold
our longing, abjure
the simpler premise of a swerve
in luck or fate. Summer’s
baggage shows up at our door,
the lesser leaves give way
to green’s inherent richness,
filling in the trumpet vine,
the Daphne stem, whose leaf
is hidden under hearty growth.
In hiding we may find
our only voice or one true word.
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by Shane McCrae
March 13, 2024
Ariadne struck the mast
Enraged. She couldn’t sail, no
One had ever bothered to
Teach her, but the ship wouldn’t
Be still. She had awoken
To find Thesus dead, his crew
Dead, and at first she had felt
Relief.
Enraged. She couldn’t sail, no
One had ever bothered to
Teach her, but the ship wouldn’t
Be still. She had awoken
To find Thesus dead, his crew
Dead, and at first she had felt
Relief.
by Bret Shepard
March 6, 2024
The purged caribou heart. First arctic
meal prepared raw, before fire. Before fires
purpled meat, meat was ulued off to serve
an open mouth. First heart’s crevasses
stretched like caribou cut raw. Protoheart
raw in search of fire, red windburn revealed
meal prepared raw, before fire. Before fires
purpled meat, meat was ulued off to serve
an open mouth. First heart’s crevasses
stretched like caribou cut raw. Protoheart
raw in search of fire, red windburn revealed
From Conjunctions 79
February 28, 2024
For breakfast, lunch, and dinner. On slices of rubbery white bread buttered with margarine so that the marmalade slides under the spreading knife. In the glass jar, the orange jelly with bright shavings of orange peel absorbs light and invites hungry eyes. And so, dreaming of marmalade, the brothers, always in need of sustenance, arrive on a snowy March morning at Heathrow.
The 2019 Shirley Jackson Award winner reads from his work
Monday, March 25, 2024
4:30 pm – 5:30 pm EDT/GMT-4
Campus Center, Weis Cinema