by poet Simon Perchik
You learn to hammer in the dark
though no one studies the hillside
how it still leans across your arms
the way creeks cast for weeds
and edges –so little is known
why iron takes root in your gut
and the same rain
drags from these wooden shingles
the constant tilt still trying to make it down
–you seal this hole by weeping into it
with a nail that’s bent, struggling
to talk, to find its way and the sea.
About the Poet
Simon Perchik is an attorney whose poems have appeared in Partisan Review, Forge, Poetry, Osiris, The New Yorker and elsewhere. His most recent collection is The Osiris Poems published by boxofchalk, 2017. For more information including free e-books and his essay “Magic, Illusion and Other Realities” please visit his website. You can watch one of his interview here.