Canticle | Joe Gross

Lay bare lascivious things.

Tear me down

temple-wise

with your chain-heavy locks.

Compound &

confound me:

Fashion me

sun-shocked,

lily-lacquered,

nettle-knapped

––stinging

like a gin-soaked sloe.

Picked, poked, stored for winter––

love me like lean times are coming.

love me like lean times are here.

Cast me out

keeled &

kenning-kindled;

pomegranate-peopled

––a little bit

dead.

Starved, rationed, doldrums-delirious––

love me like the wind just up & left.

love me like the sails were shot anyway.

And as thou hast believed, so be it done to thee.

Lay bare, you lascivious thing.

Joe Gross is a Flushing-based poet, translator, and warehouse runner. He holds an MFA from Queens College, CUNY, where he was co-editor at Armstrong Literary. His work has appeared in Killing the Buddha, and you can find him on Twitter @komradekapybara.