Ephemeris left open, transfixed by his blank gaze and one ancient ray arriving. Inside his blindness, a remembered sky: widdershins zodiac over the slanted campanile. The stones he’s thrown float up again, the vespers’ bells transpose themselves into a higher night now: neural carillon, signal fires across his darkening hemispheres: brief suns just touched with light from farther years.
May Wilson with Andy Warhol
FUTURE GIRL by William Winfield Wright
She can only just go there. That’s the super power. Get on a plane or train, even walk to the store and back and it’s later, the future, just like that. It’s not very feminist, but she can sleep there too, close her eyes and Shazam, the next day, tomorrow. It’s not that flashy. I’ve seen her do it standing in the kitchen, and we’ve…
BIRD FEET by William Winfield Wright
If I had bird feet everything would be different. I’d start paying attention to where I put myself, lifting the knees like they say, going without shoes, leaving tracks. I’d become comfortable in public conversation. “No, actually. I just woke up one day and there they were looking up at me from the bottom of the bed.” My strangeness would…
Spring Wildflowers for an Executed Man by George Longenecker
For Robert Nelson Drew #755, Texas Department of Criminal Justice Executed August 2, 1994, Huntsville, TX Take a star flower, Robert, and ride its petals above the prison where they killed you. Pick golden thread and sew together your heart. Pick the mayflower and let its white petals blossom each year for what might have been. Take the lady’s slippers and fit them to…