Poems by
Sarah Manguso

The Deer Comes Down the Mountain

This Might Be Real

Burning

 

Burning

I want to stick my hand in the energy!
The brightness that outstays its welcome,

That rides the lightning and has to do with God.
I want to stick my hand in a Bunsen burner

And watch the flame bore through it
Like a Jesus nail. I want to light my lamp at the tip

Of the inside violet blue and attach it to the underside
Of you and when you crawled the nine hundred miles

To Massapequa I would be shouting on the side
Of the riverbank, and you wonder why I'm waving

My arms and opening my mouth wide
And throwing red fire into the low branches.


 

 

 

From SISTE VIATOR (Four Way Books, 2006)