20 July 2009 | Vol. 9, No. 2
Pensacola Beach, March
If my I put my ear to Daisy's
I hear her grape-sized heart
& she, tiny love, knows not
sense, but nothing
ever does, not
feet, Daisy, come back
Daisy,
pleading, Daisy
& the water is receding
wraps around her arm
flab, & waddles
I hear her grape-sized heart
& she, tiny love, knows not
sense, but nothing
ever does, not
feet, Daisy, come back
Daisy,
pleading, Daisy
& the water is receding
wraps around her arm
flab, & waddles
chest
pumping erratic
milliliters of blood
the unfocused, gray cloud
in the left sliver of her right
iris, a mumbling
light that will never make
the jigsaw of her
skin, the finger-
long bands of muscle
in her legs, her
from the ocean's brink,
from the seagull's manic
from my tongue
which sounds like
glass, which unfurls
down the shoreline
a line of star-
fish, discarded
kelp, which Daisy
like a monster.
pumping erratic
milliliters of blood
the unfocused, gray cloud
in the left sliver of her right
iris, a mumbling
light that will never make
the jigsaw of her
skin, the finger-
long bands of muscle
in her legs, her
from the ocean's brink,
from the seagull's manic
from my tongue
which sounds like
glass, which unfurls
down the shoreline
a line of star-
fish, discarded
kelp, which Daisy
like a monster.
printer-friendly | 
About the author:
Joseph P. Wood's first book of poems, I & We (CustomWord Editions), is forthcoming in Fall 2010. He is also the author of two chapbooks, Travel Writing (Scantily Clad Press) and In What I Have Done & Failed To Do (Elixir Press). New poems can be found in BOMB, Poetry London, Drunken Boat, H_NGM_N, New Delta Review, and Passages North, among others. He serves as editor for Slash Pine Press and the Slash Pine Poetry Festival.
For further reading:
Browse the contents of 42opus Vol. 9, No. 2, where "Pensacola Beach, March" ran on July 20, 2009. List other work with these same labels: poetry.
