By Theodore Worozbyt
stepped onto the sloop Velveteen, where nightly
coffee rounds gray into buttered wood
and the glares are both less and more
accurate than the sum of my fingerprint:
So far the dog-spider leaping into my bedding
throws only white fruit with a tidy spirit
through the prior colors. I touch
this plasma sphere making lightning.
It reacts like a planet
of my eye, it abounds about itself
incoherently, a mad science
swimming with porpoises
and phosphorus breaking through the night
these circuits of the water, sparking green
pavements, a path into the garden of before.
Theodore Worozbyt’s work has recently appeared or is forthcoming in Blinders, Isthmus, Manchester Review, New England Review, Po&sie, The Puritan, Sugar House Review, and Shampoo. He has published two books of poetry, The Dauber Wings (Dream Horse Press, 2006) and Letters of Transit, which won the 2007 Juniper Prize (The University of Massachusetts Press, 2008). His third book, Smaller Than Death, won the 2015 Knut House Poetry Prize, and is forthcoming in November.Impossible Objects appears in the inaugural issue of The Chapbook. His newest chapbook, The City of Leaving and Forgetting, appears in Country Music.
