Wise is lightweight

Thursday poem:

Against A Dark Field

Hate makes my head light.
Hate rides its particulars, styled
after fireflies, after envy. Our bed rises
on its liquid. I hate the heavy

body known, by rights,
as mine. The window’s colony of wild
ideas, appointed, hovers. Wise
is lightweight. Undercover

I withdraw from us and turn
into pure fuel. You blacken with sleep. I green with burn.

Heather McHugh, from her book Dangers, also collected in Hinge & Sign. There’s more info on her at the first link, which is the Academy of American Poets, but her website is, happily, spondee.com.


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