Saturday, October 29, 2011


Sun thrums a fine squander
of vines.  I wander through

the hum of summer, lumber:
swarms disintegrate & clear,

the gravel disarranged as
before, unruffled, a river

absorbs light tipped for its last
fire foreshadowed; rippled leaf

stuff nuzzles my face.  Dusk,
nascent, dreamfast, is barely

stirring.  No burr, only barren
ground, not one broken flower

or limb upon the firmament
leftover from our quick orgy.

Primrose, larkspur, or a shy
quirk we all have foraged for

over which bees bobble like
dragon kites; shadows bower

intransigent as any random
star our sight is nectared by.

About Will Cordeiro:
Will Cordeiro has previously worked as a NYC Teaching Fellow, a staff writer at the theater magazine offoffonline, and an assistant editor of Epoch.  He has an MFA in poetry from Cornell, where he is currently a Ph.D. candidate studying 18th century British literature.  For two years he has been the Artist-in-Residence at Risley Residential College, and he also have been awarded residencies from the Provincetown Community Compact, Ora Lerman Trust, and Petrified Forest National Park.  His work has been published or is forthcoming in journals such as Fourteen Hills, Brooklyn Review, Harpur Palate, Baltimore Review, Comstock Review, Leveler, Waccamaw, Paradigm, Verse Wisconsin, Prick of the Spindle, Sentence, A cappella Zoo, Jacket, The Prose Poem Project, Carte Blanche, Poetry Quarterly, Other
Poetry, The Brooklyner.

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