Hydration: Three Poems by Jan Wiezorek

by

Jan Wiezorek

thumbnail artwork by Rene Casto 

 

O!

If you sit and wait,

your limbs weigh heavy,

pulled down, the skin flakes

base your coffee mug.

I noticed this this morning.

My left arm shook dark,

hot mess on my robe.

I will not choose ice water.

Skull flakes round my cup,

where on that dark table

lives a circle, my blessed o!

Newbie Spring

Roof held by sagging

vital breezes and clothespins,

backyard shed of forgetful rituals,

flowering baby-food lids

cupping hands, held tight

since last season.

Wander down suckling path

toward lake that diapers ice

cut thin by warm blankets.

I stand and wait to hear

dashing burbles of laughing gas

let loose under icy bundles.

Listen for small fry

who hiccups

new life to spring.

Harbor Mind

I’ve trained myself to wait

on whispers, but the dishwasher

drums daytime heartthrobs.

Heating elements tick

diablo rhythm and castanets,

cracking ceramic ridges

behind my eyes. Walking by,

my outside mind gains

harbor calm and floating pen.

I place myself near pliable skiffs

waddling geese wheels; names

so familiar to me that I can spell

them: Mermaid with her tail

resting on sawed wood dock,

and Thundermug for music

strained through Guatemalan

brew. Water always

gets me, its rabbi balancing

on board, pushing her out

from shore, and raising love coos

 

Author Bio

Jan Wiezorek has taught writing at St. Augustine College, Chicago, and his poetry has appeared or is forthcoming at The London Magazine, Panoplyzine, Better Than Starbucks, and Schuylkill Valley Journal online. He is author of Awesome Art Projects That Spark Super Writing (Scholastic, 2011) and holds a master’s degree in English Composition/Writing from Northeastern Illinois University.