Virgil

Tomorrow you will be stung by a bee.
Tonight a cute boy lays his cock on your
hi. You invite him to your no. You invite his cock
To no it down. And if you are not doing This. And if you are not
Doing That. What do you invite him to turn to. In?
You invite what slumber mutely passes for.
Sheet fisted into balls. The cross hatchings of your pattern
Stunned into forever shuns. Oh. So this is how
I towel throw. So tricky. Throat what little. Left of
The blithe night is the right thing you did not turn
Soon enough to hook. This mistook won't be forgiven.
Misdeeds booked by whom? Tomorrow you will be stung
By a bee. It will kill you. You will die into
The hard pit of a date.
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Photograph of Lucille Clifton
"In Praise of Lucille Clifton"

"Lucille Clifton’s 'earliest poems could have been written yesterday, and her later work could have been written decades ago,' Reginald Dwayne Betts writes. 'Each poem is always its own world.'"

via NEW YORK TIMES
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Cover of Andrea Rexilius' book Sister Urn

"'Gravity' from Sister Urn addresses how Rexilius navigated the knowledge of her sister’s passing on social media, the kinds of questions received there. In conversation, Rexilius has told me 'Gravity' was the first poem she wrote after her sister’s passing. She writes, 'This is the line of outcome.' Cause and effect, the consequence of action, the poem announces that it will attempt narrative in order to account for the unaccountable."
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