“*” by Simon Perchik
narrated by John C. Mannone
Illustration by Sue Babcock
* This spoon all night on tiptoe listens for the careless splash that will never make it back –the cup half hazelnut, black, half-filled so its prey can be tracked in the dark the way one mouth finds another feeds on the voice that can’t escape –hour after hour being eaten by the silence longing for the light though even with the walls in place even with her hands over your eyes begging you from behind Guess who? you circle the room, flying blind spread-eagle, and hear the You no longer moving between your teeth. Simon Perchik is an attorney whose poems have appeared in Partisan Review, The Nation, Poetry, The New Yorker, and elsewhere. His most recent collection is Almost Rain, published by River Otter Press(2013). For more information, free e-books and his essay titled “Magic, Illusion and Other Realities” please visit his website at www.simonperchik.com.
Tags: Poetry, Simon Perchik