NEW! Simon Perchik poem

Simon Perchik

*

You wait as if every river
begins in ice, then moonlight
seeping slowly through

--you don’t wait! the coffee
is sweeping all Earth
on its side, both poles

flowing into the equator
and what you swallow
is already shoreline

huddled around this table
and your lips in the open
the way small stones are left

to help the dead wander back
as the dim light they make
and any morning now.