Simon Perchik




*

There is no tunnel, you crawl

the way a turtle takes hold

and from the sidewalk a dry breeze

 

smelling from salt and two in the afternoon

—the crowd thinks the cup is for beggars

fill it so the air inside

 

will rise and you can breathe

one more time :a tide

lets you survive in the open

 

though one cheek is dragged

over the other till your mouth

becomes a shell —all you can do

 

is drink from it

do what skies once did

filled with thirst and emptiness.




Simon Perchik is an attorney whose poems have appeared in Partisan Review, The Nation, Poetry, Osiris, The New Yorker, and elsewhere. His most recent collection is Almost Rain (River Otter Press, 2013). For more information, including free e-books and his essay titled “Magic, Illusion and Other Realities,” please visit his website at www.simonperchik.com.










                                    

 

Home
Current Issue
Submissions
Contributors' Notes


Email this poem Printer friendly page

A CLOSER LOOK: Barbara Crooker

Bruce Bennett

Lucia Cherciu

Philip Dacey

Jane Ellen Glasser

Erica Goss

Elise Hempel

Alec Hershman

Rich Ives

Michael Jones

Kathryn Kirkpatrick

Sandra Kohler

Charlotte Mandel

G.H. Mosson

Simon Perchik

Oliver Rice

David Salner

Robert Joe Stout

Anne Harding Woodworth on Rebecca Foust

Richard Lee Zuras

Martha Zweig

More

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

       

 

 

 

 

 


Last Updated: Aug 31, 2017 - 1:39:51 PM

Copyright 2005 - 2017 Cook Communication.