He is not molded and formed from the clay.
He is wrenched out of it.
He is heaved up by the nape of the neck.
He is turned and twisted, a rusted screw.
He is standing but not fully.
He is conscious but only barely.
He is standing enough to know it is not for him.
He is conscious enough to know it is not for him.
The index finger of his right hand points downward.
It is the tongue of his body.
It says: Let me fall, let me sleep again.
It says: Return me to the earth before it is too late.
J.R. Solonche is the author of Beautiful Day (Deerbrook Editions), Won’t Be Long (Deerbrook Editions), Heart’s Content (Five Oaks Press), Invisible (nominated for the Pulitzer Prize by Five Oaks Press), The Black Birch (Kelsay Books), I, Emily Dickinson & Other Found Poems (Deerbrook Editions), In Short Order (Kelsay Books), Tomorrow, Today and Yesterday (Deerbrook Editions), True Enough (Dos Madres Press), The Jewish Dancing Master (Ravenna Press), If You Should See Me Walking on the Road (Kelsay Books), In a Public Place (Dos Madres Press), To Say the Least (Dos Madres Press), For All I Know (forthcoming 2020 from Kelsay Books), The Time of Your Life (forthcoming April 2020 from Adelaide Books), The Porch Poems (forthcoming 2020 from Deerbrook Editions), Enjoy Yourself (forthcoming 2020 from Serving House Books), and coauthor of Peach Girl: Poems for a Chinese Daughter (Grayson Books). He lives in the Hudson Valley.
The Ekphrastic Review
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