Related Poems

I rose from marsh mud

I rose from marsh mud,
algae, equisetum, willows,
sweet green, noisy
birds and frogs

to see her wed in the rich
rich silence of the church,
the little white slave-girl
in her diamond fronds.

In aisle and arch
the satin secret collects.
United for life to serve
silver. Possessed.

in • cho • ate

MacNolia Cox

in cho • ate (♥) adj. Only begun or entered upon; incipient. As when ribbons of light peer through inchoate air, before the thought of loss or love come into focus, as when the first glance of a stranger brushes over you, and, for that breath of time, you wonder if time has double-crossed you; you wonder if this could be the start of a new ending, or if this look—this probe up your spine, this eye on your leg, neck, lips, hair—could come from a ghost of someone—someone, mind you, who you thought you deserved; someone, mind you, who taught you how not to love—whose hand opens like your mouth once did while saying, with innocence, Yes, over and over again.

Murmur of the Bay

Translated by Don Cellini


Look at us there, fermented
between daybreak
               and its chills
the dawn dampens us
with its almost ashen milk
and it moves us
with that glamour of things
that rot

look at us there, ghosts
and leave us there, wandering
biting the mud
to quench the germ
with our constant thirst
nourishing ourselves
on everything that hurts