Poetry Issue 24


Patrick Pritchett


You want to make the noise that only
comes once – the glass-shivering
vibraphonic echo, a murmur from
dawn-cascade-wonder that shakes
the golden spire; refrain locational as
Wednesday or a Labrador Retriever:
the singular syllabic ode and gasp
that goes beyond language as if
language could survive its own relapse
or remain inside one small wayward tone.
Radar’s electric swan rolling over black water.
The tranquil agate of a cat’s eyes or
the way a sparrow chirps & hiccups
on the plain of green and endless sorrows.