Poetry Issue 20:2

ISSUE 20:2 : JULY-DECEMBER 2014

Jose Perez Beduya

Lacrimal Point

The great house spun, splashing
Loose change against the walls.

With my chickens, I arose. How long

Have I been dead and tall?
The last thing I remember:

Contracting heiligenschein.

As vertical and prismatic as I was
In that other time

When shards drizzled down

The hole in the dome,

I was already almost entirely
Blind. Still, knocking on anything that returned

A hollow sound, I went on
Acquiring, comparing

Insides to insides. At no price point did I find
A familiar voice or feel mercurial Money to be real. For my talents, I was later recruited

By forces loyal to zones of dusk
And I came to perceive celestial

Disturbances as speech,

As when dissidents
In lotus position on parking lots

Lit themselves, and the sun got caught

Against spires at noon,
Causing the firmament to skip and repeat

“There is a sickness

I would like to give to all of you.”

“There is a sickness

I would like to give to all of you.”