13

by D.A. Powell

afraid to write

then

in visible ink

so I invented

an alphabet

whose lithe strokes

hid even from me

the sunsets

lists of people

who touched me

who I touched

in return

the letters

like blades

of ordinary grass

quarternotes

and curlicues

little flicks

like the first L’s

which whipped the

backs of camels,

that was

the Q which came

up frequently

in my forgotten

tongue of quaver

and commands

a script to hide

its Q’s but not

afraid to

make them

tell even if

just the angels

read this music

better really

the angels

have made

alphabets

before to hide

the names of

God they must

not tell

any of this

14

By D.A. Powell 

I couldn’t see

then

the ghost

who walked

beside me

was my own

true love

the form

of whom

would change

he was

a shifting sea

a shifting he

I couldn’t be

myself but he

could be he

could be me

or anyone

time does

cruel tricks

just like me

just like he

RHYMES WAITING TO BE MADE POEMS OUT OF:

by D.A. Powell

Hair and heron, air and Aaron, portents and Hortense, flocculence and moccasins, bear and

baron, farcical and popsicle, opulence and obstacle, barbarous and barnacle, fleabag and seahag,

north and fork and porch and pork, webinar and motorcar, broken heart and shopping cart, 

isn’t and pissant, quizzical and business school, barium and aquarium, anemone and BLT,  

whimsy and virginity, carapace and omnibus, immaculate ejaculate, penis and meanness, floral

and immoral, cinnamon iridium, cocksucker and calculator, mastermind and masturbator, 

stimulate and smell ya later. Asswipe and guttersnipe. 

Enter Faun 

by D.A. Powell

snared by the lantern light 

of sheer shoulderblade cut meadowgrass, the sour dew

on sorrel, the greasewood in

serpentine barrens, creamy

chamise that seeds after fire,

the scrub oak and knobcone,

the twisted trunk of manzanita,

radial symmetry of roughleaf

aster, astir, curving, comely 

hidden flower, at the amber 

hour, the milky moon already

risen, the horns of the bucks,

the horns of the owls, the hind

legs of the honeybee, the thrust

of scented gentians, the bare 

branch grasped at, heavy, 

sleek, forked, ropey, rugged,

a cool sip from the tin canteen,

the turn, the tug, the trigger,

the bigger the moon the better

I see where your shadows lie,

crevice, creek, channel trout, 

fly fisher, hewn log, smooth frog,

hound dog, bay laurel, quick zip,

pellucid trail of button's banana

slug, the slug from the jug, the 

jugular vein, the bristle on the

boar's back, the caught limb, 

him, me, heave, leaves, rustle

of the limbs of the walnut trees

About the author

D.A. Powell is a professor of writing at University of San Francisco. His most recent collections are Atlas T (Rescue Press, 2020) and Low Hanging Fruit (Foundlings Press, 2022). His poems have appeared most recently in Poetry Northwest, Cape Cod Review and Paris Review.

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Sara Shaheen