Poem | *

Edward Hopper, Rooms by the Sea, 1951 (Yale University Art Gallery)

 

There are no splinters though this door
is still making room for the sea
to come inside—even without water

these walls become sails, their corners
opening as if this pillow
is reaching out where two should be

—more ships! armadas half canvas
half behind each window shade
where someone is crying from lips

that never dry, sweat when turning a knob
hollowing it out the way you dead
let each other in—one by one

learning to rise to the surface
as walls and underneath
unfolding your arms for more wood.

Published in the May 17, 2019 issue: 
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Simon Perchik is an attorney whose poems have appeared in Partisan Review, Forge, Poetry, Osiris, the New Yorker, and elsewhere. His most recent collection is The Gibson Poems (Cholla Needles, 2019).

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Poem | C 54

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