Phrasis by Wendy Xu


Stilled as in image, at dawn sliding into
blue harbor, boats clang, where does he
the man I imagine gripping several ropes
return from. Is he conflicted, does he
perceive the sky oscillating like
a dimmer machine, a mouth, a war, language
not declaring its most
effective self, bellum grazing ever
nearer to beauty, a possible apotheosis how
what is left of sense
is comfort. Not inebriated much anymore,
I rented a lawn to stand in with you, crueler
was always singing to our mutual forks,
knives. Our translation
of a subject drones
on unblinking, something black for him
returning, his forearms there laid
themselves down, ships gone out another
pale-plated night.

Today I discovered a new poet. Her name is Wendy Xu. I also have a new word for my vocabulary list, or for my Wednesday meme, Wondrous Words hosted by Bermudaonion. The word is "phrasis."  This phrase from the poem seems to fit the search I've done this morning. There is this feeling that the definition of the word could lead me far and beyond where I want to travel today.

" Our translation
of a subject drones
on unblinking"

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