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Poem of the Week by Zach Savich

By Zach Savich


I write you from a peripheral grown large enough

to rest in or turn around. Tell me with a look.

The tires will go flat and there is

a restaurant called Open. As one practicing his instrument

inadvertently comes into song and stays there.


Or as the right appetite

turns excess

into abundance.

Difficulty into a kind of ease

because total.

Where I have been run through

there is no wound

only open air.

The taste on my tongue

is not too sweet

it’s simply sugar.

It’s how it is, and so are you.

Also, the day looks lovely on you.

It looks like what, in landscape,

they call the advantage,

where one habitat blushes into another

and birds there can storm the meadow

or sing.


Also, I’ve heard nothing is free

and lasts forever. Seeing you

is like seeing someone

I already adore

in a perfect shirt.

ZACK SAVICH will be one of the featured poets at the next Silo City Reading Series event at 7 p.m. Friday at 100 Childs St. His newest book of poetry is “Century Swept Brutal” (Black Ocean Press, 2014). He is also the author of the poetry collections “Full Catastrophe Living” (2009), “Annulments” (2010) and “The Firestorm” (2011), as well as a book of prose, “Events Film Cannot Withstand” (2011). His work has received the Iowa Poetry Prize, the Colorado Prize for Poetry and the Cleveland State University Poetry Center’s Open Award, among other honors. A graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop and the MFA program for Poets and Writers at the University of Massachusetts, he teaches at the University of Arts in Philadelphia and co-edits Rescue Press’ Open Prose Series. This poem was originally published in the May/June 2014 issue of American Poetry Review.