Tropic Troping Bird

By on Apr 6, 2013 in Poetry

Couple over tropical bird feathers

My world is each changeling
stroke, a god’s 

blue breath. Where clutches end,
nothing much to grasp. 

My skin shines
like melted pennies. 

That’s how the light is on watch.
Eternity is incremental. A mouth- 

to-trough existence is simple.
Our regard for each other a series 

of seconds raring
to stare and stare. Narcissistic? 

Not for me to say. All is blood gain,
fib by fib. I wonder, hot-bladed “loon,” 

are you one such bit of marginalia,
a pattern of foxfire scat strewn 

wherever I turn? Love of pleasure wakes
you, copper-steeped, 

startled with disgust.




Stephen Massimilla is a poet, critic and painter. His latest book, The Plague Doctor in His Hull-Shaped Hat, is forthcoming as a contest winner from Stephen F. Austin State University Press. His collection Forty Floors from Yesterday received the Bordighera Prize, and Almost a Second Thought was runner-up for the Salmon Run National Poetry Book Award judged by X.J. Kennedy. Other awards include the Grolier Prize, a Van Renssalaer Award judged by Kenneth Koch, and three Pushcart nominations. Massimilla received an MFA and Ph.D. from Columbia University and teaches at Columbia University and the New School.