Sunday, February 24, 2013

James Grinwis


The vicious quoll
is a bloodthirsty marsupial.

The water ouzle, an adept bird.

The stellar jay who peeked at you
wondering about your sandwich.

The prickly pine hugging the rock

The grave movement of the river

A turnpike lit itself

The level of grass as it appeared
an hour before it was grass

There may have been something there.

I was in the morning what I was in the morning.

A void of stuff, an eddy of bricks

The light on an orange page

following the trail of a butterfly who is human,

a butterwoman.

James Grinwis is the author of The City from Nome and Exhibit of Forking Paths. He is the co-founding editor of Bateau Press and lives in Northampton, MA.