This week, a poem by Julian Gewirtz.




In a forest of needled cedar
at the foot of every tree
gleaming puddles      abandoned

negligees ripped from shoulders to ankles—

the moment we arrive
it is winter      rushing
piling around our waists
till we are falling down
skinned on hills of emery

down to where the citrons
cling and you walk with me
into this valley this
afternoon    not yet four

now I see you triple-length in branchless shadow,

your wooly hair the only
bit of you exposed—
peroxide stained back
into you, jacking up

your price     all bidders, bidders.
Remind me, is it to Danaë
that Zeus showers himself,

a captive, a cascade of gold coins,
a jackpot, a spotlight,
a prisoner—

meaning someone who has nowhere else to spend it.


JULIAN GEWIRTZ was born in New Haven, CT. His poems are published or forthcoming in AGNI, Boston Review, The New Republic, Ploughshares, and The Yale Review.

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