Construction Literary Magazine

Fall 2020

Three Poems

Three Poems

Photograph via Flickr by Muffet

Why Fish are Better than Memories of Seth

flapping about
like fish on a dry dock


the yellow beadiness
in their eyes
expressing the totally inhuman
horror of asphyxiating in air

the gills move up & down

one can eat
memories too
but still expect
to starve


Shepherd’s Hand

sometimes it is the hook in the shepherd’s hand
sometimes the X: Xylophone, equal
sometimes it’s this ghost—these sounds
we hear only as adults
swish swish slap
silence like a pulling out

I am never far from how I feel. this grizzled shock

of brown like land on the horizon
a blade with no handle, or sun spritzing the window

I hate myself.


Entry Midwinter

for Alec

the world replacing the world
in its variations on
sleep and death.

with winter’s first flick of frost
all has been other
than what was meant.

the unmade bed,
the window collecting
sunlight in a dish.