You are a pool of oil, very calm Very still
and very calm on the cool and cooling floor
I slip around the edges; the edges creep in
An animal, I creep until you gather up and go
I like the stone wall, it does its job It doesn't move
for fifty years For a hundred years, the wall waits
regarding sun absorbing wind It waits
for things to happen Which do or do not occur
People say, Don't run with the blade People say
Cut away from the body, sew away from those
who hold the cloth I could do that I could, but
people forget to say The last stitch is through the nose
©
is the author of The Veronica Maneuver (forthcoming, The University of Akron Press), and What the Spigot Said (High5 Press). Poems have appeared in American Letters & Commentary, Best New Poets, Columbia Poetry Review, Barrow Street and elsewhere, and criticism and reviews in Jacket2, Spoke Too Soon, and The Offending Adam. A native of the Seattle area, Jennifer is an assistant professor of creative writing at Ohio Northern University and lives in Defiance, Ohio.
We’ve published two more poems by Moore: “[If I suggest a toy for you to play with]” and “[A wolf carved a hole of a web].”
