BY DANIELLE SUSI
Portrait of a Man Fishing
hold-less hands crossing streets
beds overlooking hollow light
shining down on
beef stir fry vapors
escaping from windows
full stomachs and
antacid popping
touchless slumber
*
Portrait of a Man Sculpting
built of silt and
soil without a mold
ash on hands and arms
washing away
in the current
thick darkness reflected
in the flushed skin
of guilt
you bring young girls to water
and make their granite skin
turn pink too
*
Portrait of a Man as Father
receive a son
save the comforter
in my name
seam
so tight against the face
repent the gift or
any likeness of labor
*
Portrait of a Man as Autumn
too many tiny seams
and a spine
like petrol
invisible but
not silent
a ballet dancing
down arms
slow–
running water
faucet of wind and
a year not yet painted
Editor's Note: This feature appeared on our old site.
Danielle Susi is the author of the chapbook The Month in Which We Are Born (dancing girl press, 2015). Her writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Knee-Jerk Magazine, Hobart, and The Rumpus, among many other publications. She received her MFA in writing from The School of the Art Institute of Chicago and Newcity has named her among the Top 5 Emerging Chicago Poets. Find her online at daniellesusi.com