by Jory Mickelson
forget the man in the boat
forget its white boards
forget the light on his face
the steel locks that he’s resting
above the oars
ignore the threadbare
cuff of his gray coat
his broken black cap
the burl of his brown wool pants
[forget] the ripples of daylight dogging the hull
the white paint over the slow rusting nails
[forget] the water’s grey-blue wrestle
with the wind
look to the wave, it’s slow
cresting white, its spray
the way the man resting in the boat
has no need to open his eyes
[the drift of net, the shape of haddock below]
Jory Mickelson is a queer writer whose work is forthcoming and has appeared in Sixth Finch, Mid-American Review, Diode Poetry Journal, The Rumpus, Ninth Letter, Vinyl Poetry, The Collagist, and other journals in the United States, Canada, and the UK. They are the recipient of an Academy of American Poet’s Prize and a Lambda Literary Fellow in Poetry. The author of three chapbooks, you can follow them at www.jorymickelson.com
Hawaii Pacific Review 