Carl Wycoff CC
Sometimes I want to unzip the jumpsuit of my flesh
and leap out from my lantern-self--
just to see a grown woman shatter a skylight.
The world’s too much with me, yes,
but who’s to know what pinions me to prayer,
if prayer is what a poem is?
My daughters lean away from me,
stalks of winter wheat yearning
for some glimmer of steadfastness,
or else an eclipse. Bittersweet soothsayers,
they say I’m a zoftig scarecrow,
wind-blown and truly obsolete.
Enough of men’s empires, febrile desires,
and the endless vicissitudes of pain.
Brimming with half-truths,
I sieve myself back
into my sleeve of breathing body
like wine decanted in an Erlenmeyer flask,
and await whatever song drinks me next.
Maurya Simon’s tenth volume of poems, The Wilderness: New and Selected Poems, was awarded the 2019 Gold Medal in Poetry from the Independent Booksellers Association. Other awards include: a Fulbright Senior Research Fellowship (Bangalore, South India), an NEA Fellowship in Poetry, and the Lucille Medwick Memorial and Cecil Hemley Memorial Awards from the Poetry Society of America. She’s been a Visiting Writer at the American Academy in Rome, the Baltic Centre for Writers & Translators (Sweden), Hawthornden Castle (Scotland), and at the MacDowell Colony. Simon’s poems have been translated into Hebrew, French, Spanish, Greek, and Farsi. She currently serves as a Professor of the Graduate Division at the University of California, Riverside and resides in the Angeles National Forest in southern California.
Write something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview.