“Venetian Pigeons,” Langley Steuart ‘24

Swimming

by Watson Deacon ‘24


             Mary Oliver, Lao Tzu, Field Medic,

             Emma Shaughnessy, Wendell Berry, Bobby Womack


you do not have to be good:

shiny eyed sparrow in a first-grade birdcage

there really was a nun to unlearn

how you rehearsed that bible black lesson

forgive me father a sinner I am I am I am


high rank is, like one’s body, a source of great trouble:

you want to move with the force of a god

or at least as gracefully as words

turn your palms to the clear sky instead

and feel the wind like a gentle lover

give thanks for your long clumsy mess of curls and limbs


remember to breathe, put your mind at ease:

you have never been so cruel to anyone else

there is some glittering freedom

in exiling the boy who hates you

even if it’s just through the mouth


take yourself less seriously:

this morning at eleven for breakfast

you had cherry pop tarts and

a cup of black tea with honey


be joyful though you have considered all the facts:

this is your garden and the cars

parked in the gravel behind the stone wall

belong to people leaving soon


in other words, darling, I love ya:

when you’re all caught up inside

and it’s rubber balls off the walls of your skull

take time to praise the colorful immediate world

there are miles ahead of you and sunlight

throw yourself in strong glowing strokes through the water

 

a million agains

by Enuma Anekwe-Desince ‘22


replay the first time you saw my face the first time you saw your future in my eyes the first time you told me I was divine redo the poetic license you granted me in your pages restart our vows resay the life plan repeat my wife say it again you know I yearn to be on your lips retell me half-told conversations between you and God resell me that I never have to do anything reshow me how I brought hope back to your eyes relove me like we’re stepping over the threshold remeet my family rematerialize being upset that you forgot to ask about my dowry retie the knot reintroduce me to Mom recome back into my life for the final time rekiss me in the airport regrip my thigh when the car swerves in front of us relick my head in the mirror rebeckon me by name and readmit that you love me rewake me up in the middle of the night repull me closer redry those tears rewallpaper me rectify it as art recompliment the pink and browns of my lips recollect me as baby making you cry stained my cheeks reorder the pasta the whole bottle of wine rechoose the wrong restaurant reorder the overfried shrimp if it means I’m next to you redrive in circles looking for the lookout relose your luggage reconfuse ourselves at Reagan rewrongly insert the card in the chipreader being by your side is all I want reimagine me as the mountain the mother of your kids recry those tears after our departure resay all your decrees of love reannounce that you look at pictures of me for inspiration retell me how I’m your light redeclare how no one’s ever been present in your spirit like this remind me that all of this is for our family resurrect my belief in an equitable love remember why I’m so intoxicated by you recall that you spoiled me rebathe me in promises of our future reaffirm that we stuffed eight months into one day reproduce home inside of you replicate me running into your arms retype my in front of queen rewrite our story until we recite it at the altar refreshed and reready to be reunited.

 

“Shaner’s Greenhouse,” Maddie Stevenson ‘22