| Poetry


G.C. Waldrep

These are the postures
of pain, the mannequins
pain makes of us.

The mind’s crows settle
in the midst
of the thorny bush,
little dark
tongues of flame.

It is difficult sometimes
to relinquish
that which resembles
say the scientists.

Winter’s docents, strapped
to gurneys
in the hospital corridors,
sleep on, unmolested.

Listen for the ghost, whisper
the voices
from the frozen well.

O deciduous
of the body, what curious
mythologies you have.

& then back out again,
the vitreous matter
concealed in the heartwall,
of meat hanging

low from the rafters,
over the mangers of bread.



G.C. Waldrep’s most recent books are Your Father on the Train of Ghosts (BOA Editions, 2011), a lyric collaboration with John Gallaher; The Arcadia Project:  North American Postmodern Pastoral (Ahsahta, 2012), co-edited with Joshua Corey; and a chapbook, Susquehanna (Omnidawn, 2013).  He teaches at Bucknell University, edits the journal West Branch, and serves as Editor-at-Large for The Kenyon Review.

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