*


Goes first though once airborne 

your reflection changes shape 

corrects for turbulence, backs off 

breaking up between the mirror 

and the faucet kept open 

for headwinds lifting the water

to fit what’s to come 

—you will never be generous again 

—one hand stays wet, the other

held up to stop its likeness 

before it rises to the surface 

as stone longing to face you 

fly into your mouth, breathe for her 

say to her the word after word 

she will recognize as her name 

spreading out for a sea, wings 

to put your hands into 

and the broken teeth trying to hold on


Simon Perchik is an attorney whose poems have appeared in Partisan Review, Forge, Poetry, Osiris, The New Yorker and elsewhere. His most recent collection is The Gibson Poems published by Cholla Needles, 2019. For more information, including free e-books and his essay “Magic, Illusion and Other Realities,” please visit his website at www.simonperchik.com.

Recent Posts

See All

The Falls

1 Jim Timmons had come from Vermont to Deer Falls, the little resort town on the edge of the Adirondacks, not for the scenery or skiing— he could get that at home—but to look for work. A cousin had to

The Man Who Must Be Named

There is a name for the man with a hundred hands who lies under your bed, the one with fifty mucked-up faces for the fifty bad-luck places where your loved ones end up dead. Rumpelstiltskin and his fa

Disaster Relief (Flint, Michigan 2015)

Pharaoh’s magicians, you apprehend too late that technical slights and sleights-of-hand resolve nothing; the techne you seek, the immense stillness of negligence. Conjurers, your hands at rest give an

J Journal

Department of English

John Jay College of Criminal Justice

524 West 59th Street, 7th Floor

New York, NY. 10019.

johnjaylogo.png
CUNY_Logo_ copy.png

Site Design by Dalyz A. © 2020