by James Kelly Quigley
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—February, by the far gate, ruckus
Luckily, I am alive & will be forever
As if I my own christ were sipping
The full-bodied cab sauv of some lesser daddy’s boy
My name was taken from the wicker mouths of pastors on SoCo
& Snapple
Their liver spots my first inkblot test
My first failure
Beefeater my second & most enduring
Next to finding gutted on our floor
Red & blue Japanese fighting fish
All the water in the world sucked away under those heads
Scanning the oblique horizon of their crossed-out eyes
That utter singularity
Lurking behind, beneath, beyond, through:
I am alive & will be forever
Death my last inadequacy
Luckily, I am alive & will be forever
As if I my own christ were sipping
The full-bodied cab sauv of some lesser daddy’s boy
My name was taken from the wicker mouths of pastors on SoCo
& Snapple
Their liver spots my first inkblot test
My first failure
Beefeater my second & most enduring
Next to finding gutted on our floor
Red & blue Japanese fighting fish
All the water in the world sucked away under those heads
Scanning the oblique horizon of their crossed-out eyes
That utter singularity
Lurking behind, beneath, beyond, through:
I am alive & will be forever
Death my last inadequacy
—March, silver rain, boy in Yankee fitted makes a mudpie