Today's poem is by James Hoch
Body
I hang it here, in the entry,
so it will be known simplyunmistakenly as fact, the way
when you were bornyou were merely a body
umbilic, barely breathing.I could hold you against
my chest and sleep, not hearthe sky falling metallic
nor dead friends all nightpacing quietly in my room.
Son, when you cut it down,you'll have to lift it kindly
so as not to compromisethe evidence. And if they ask
about the pills or empties,say I tried to make my body
pure again a fireman swayingfrom a cord smartly tied
back on itself, nothing more.
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Copyright © 2013 James Hoch All rights reserved
from Green Mountains Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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