the moonshine hiccoughs

& it is july

everywhere

as if certain elms

stood for us, smoking

somewhere in morse

& they have fallen

for the first time

*

as if "bad" explodes

& we are children

again, in our own

countries, envelopes

of ache

we broke our bottles

everywhere

damned & okay

Sharp Fish 1

poems by eric weiskott

Eric Weiskott is a young man studying something or other at Wesleyan

University. His work has appeared in Canopic Jar, Front Porch, Versal, &c.

Sharp Fish 2

we are home sometimes,

in utter april,

out past the orchard

    "time to go"

the sunshine sing

what fabled apples,

perhaps

*

the grapes hang like rats

fanged, unwilling

a new wine, angry

& real

this is the end

we search in the barns

& sleep in the barns

Sharp Fish 3

we all die sometimes,

quoting shakespeare or

baking, engraven

on the day

oh, what fancy hands

what wonky commies

at last, life on the

bomb

    and we all think,

"to have loved & lost"

*

is this the right place,

types the wolf, the moon

is right there, is this

it