Andrew Seguin


              On this day when
the clocks follow the concentric
              tempo of a top

and the verb to be
              has worn off its costume
so the tongue can pick a place

              among pictures, touch
the unsung repose of shut
              it’s like the spring is one

powder keg of pretty
              and all the math that felt
unnatural adds up to up

              So stay with me
and stir paint for definitions
              give red to melancholy

for all I care
              for all I am is care lost
in a cornfield where it seeks

              accord, as love
is as much about a person
              as the atmosphere they create

around your coordinates
              the admissions parlor
the family tree where dinner is religion

              No one ever asks
about figments of reality
              but they’re there

confetti and metaphysics
              make a fine pair, as do
lemon and ocean, progress, nocturne

              plus other approximate
pronouns such as you and I
              and the only chronological

constants worth a dance
              the two-step we ones
call on and on






River fluent, sired
by ice in the up-high
waters, mineral

physic of the mind
which notices a poplar
culture here, where

the granite’s gouged
by endurance and tin trash
roosts in the rocks and clicks

in the wind like a let-go
radio. Landscape no
bandage, I pick the parts

I want to see. Others badger
me: fox-flash, lapis, a guess
down its hole, Peregrine

sixty miles an hour
into a kill from the clouds.
No choice in vision’s

twitch to catch the last
of the lark? rook? pigeon?
for the mind keeps a ghost

named grain or peril
in its protein chain,
whom the labs hack

and wish to fix with Latin,
while we less-contents
welcome another shepherd.


Andrew Seguin is the author of Black Anecdote, a chapbook that was a winner of the Poetry Society of America’s New York Chapbook Fellowship. He is also a photographer with an abiding interest in 19th-century photographic processes. To see more of his work, visit

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