04/05/2014

the idea of green

beaks out
of a motherless egg,

its shovel tongue
thrusting

in the winter’s dark.

REVIEW

It’s as if his poems happen twice.
First as the bullet that pierces the skin;
second as the tracer whose flare
ribbons the dark with carmine.

Read Valerio Magrelli’s “I’ve often imagined gazes” at Poetry International >>

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