Ibid, Ibid, by H.E. Fisher

Untitled, by Jean Michel Basquiat (USA) c. 1980s

​Ibid, Ibid
  
if typed    I would not understand   words   
 
strung out   cut off   Ibid   page numbers   Ibid  
 
790   791   numbers   as in numbing   4.   453    
 
and lossians.1   as in Colossians   an epistle   the C 
 
reversed   made partial   slivered   and 2 Ps   P as in Paul   
 
and Os   red circular fury   crayon or marker    as in zeroes
 
or islands like Haiti   or bodies of apostles     and black 
 
something pressed   pulled away   a handprint of paper     
 
and pale pink like white flesh   and masking tape   beige  
 
cross-outs   as in a cross   and a single phallus     O Painter    
 
you come   with letters and numbers   not wanting me
 
to see   all of what is there   only what could be

H.E. Fisher

H.E. Fisher is the author of the hybrid collection STERILE FIELD (Free Lines Press, 2022) and JANE ALMOST ALWAYS SMILES, a poetry chapbook (Moonstone Press, 2022). H.E.’s work has appeared in Whale Road Review, Tupelo Quarterly, Indianapolis Review, and The Hopper, among other publications. H.E. was awarded the 2019 Stark Poetry Prize in Memory of Raymond Patterson at City College of New York, was a finalist in the 2020-21 Comstock Review Chapbook Contest, and has been nominated for Best of the Net. H.E. is the editor of (Re) An Ideas Journal.