Construction Literary Magazine

Fall 2020

Two Poems

Two Poems
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Ripe Order

As a line
break in clay
forms the metrics
of mediocrity
waves return
a facing shore
waiving from a sky
which mirrors them.

Suppose a woman is truth
and truth a mirror
and our own amanuensis
writes “semi-
ologic”
instead of “semi-
colon?” The order
when broken

Rises like steeples steeped
in precision
as lichen likened
to ruin
requires a symbiotic
design between people
and things
to begin in time again.

On Second Thought

I

There was crossfire
Dogs fled in droves
Shadows stood behind their effigies
though neither was alive
and no tears were discovered by the fountain

II

These are my times
It’s how I spend a day
Watching the wind blow expression
from couples’ faces
as watching is an airborne effect, like waiting

III

The shadows followed the dogs home
The crossfire was performed routinely, no guns
The effigies were iconic to say the least
and I write through the afternoon
until my family rises like steam out of the basin