Mitchell Glazier
Saints, Tonguing
The boy will burn his leopard coat.
A curry of heaven, the muscle of a wish.
And what of the honeysuckle,
sewing their faces into lush
roadside? (Deep breath. Just a little—)
The flesh is a wilderness. Come morning
the juicyfruit moon will sash its velvet
curtain. Their eyes, hardened as wish
stones, skimmed. The lake's blue cool
lover. My dolls are always happy, the boy tongues
over the saint's lips, then down over the inked pistols,
draped over the thinnest wings.
Mitchell Glazier was born in Martinsburg, West Virginia, in 1995. His poetry has appeared in The Adroit Journal, on the Editors’ List for the 2015 and 2016 Adroit Prize for Poetry, and in Dialogist. He is currently enrolled in the MFA program at Columbia University.
More from Vol. 34, Issue 3
To Sing, In Dixie // The Extinct Fresh Water Mussels of the Detroit River // The Ivory Gull Under the Bridge Over the Flint River // Noon in a Corner Café: The Sign
Terry Blackhawk
Saints, Tonguing
Mitchell Glazier
Sonnet II
Louise Labé, trans. Leah Souffrant
Damned // The Last Word
Tim McCoy
Poem for the Unborn // Classical Mechanics // Indigenous Plants // Thirteenth Wedding Anniversary
Nicole Walker
Summons in the Form of an Invasion // 37 Panoramic Views of Edo
Steve Barbaro
The Bird Girl
Jessica Cuello
“The ply of spirits on bodies": Diaspora and Metamorphosis in Donald Revell's “Short Fantasia"
Mark Irwin
Morning Quake // Friday's Quake // Sunday's Quake
Jacqueline Lyons
Review of Norman Finkelstein's The Ratio of Reason to Magic: New and Selected Poems
Andrew S. Nicholson