Place

A mug / A mask / Marbled / Apples / Ash / The blue / Twilled cloth /

Called Corpse / A horse / Before / A storm / To warn

Weathervane / Lodged torn in / The hedge maze / Days before /

At the first / Hint of I / Scry fruit trestled / As nave’s ribs

Gunners on a / Courthouse roof the / Field sown with sweat /

Catching net set / Over fallen / Birds from wet wires

Tires chewing windchimes / Stole sills from under pies /

Painted carrier doves / On walls and struck as sets

Stet: let it stand I’ve made my peace / With birds interred in

south-shipped fruit / Then in skirt-slips warmed, singing out:

So, song is our only home (I’m: Hopscotch Chalk Corpse) /

How much loss until the first loss looks like love

(I’m: Closing Your Eyes in Claustrophobic Rooms Should Be No

Different From Closing Your Eyes in Meadows)

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Zach Savich has had recent poems in Colorado Review, jubilat, 88, and Blue Mesa Review. He is currently teaching at Victoria University in Wellington, New Zealand.

Other works on Sidebrow: 23:59, Sing/Le Figure & Photograph in which everything is blurred