Sunday, April 10, 2011

Dan Rosenberg

BACK


burrow in blankets
the heatless extremities

what can’t be
held

but isn’t leaving

a light in your lung
head to a familiar breast



AND THE SOMETHING THAT IS


The mosquito
frozen to my window

in a splay
of not falling.

White landscape pops
his tan stripes,

wings arched,
spectacles.



Dan Rosenberg's poems have appeared recently or are forthcoming in several journals, including American Letters & Commentary, Pleiades, Subtropics, and Sixth Finch. His chapbook, A Thread of Hands, is available from Tilt Press. A graduate of the Iowa Writers' Workshop, he is currently pursuing a Ph.D. at The University of Georgia and co-editing the poetry journal Transom.