Authors /
Jen Stewart Fueston
Against metaphor
The hawk grips electric wire and waits,
his brown-feathered head as smooth as if
he’d slicked it back this morning with a comb,
the way his keen eyes part the bent weeds...
At Hagia Irene
This is the place they made the creeds.
Which I suppose is like the place
they split the atom. Light from light,
true God from true God,
hydrogen and helium...
Dualism for beginners
We don’t choose what we believe in. Toddlers sing-song
you can’t see me, you can’t see me, even though
they’ve only closed their eyes. You know the soul...
Monologue of the Juno probe
They have named me for a woman
who could pull the curtains back and peer
at the ineffable by inches.
I have one eye and broad wings for catching sun...
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