Let’s meet at the beginning of water

by Chris Campanioni


& bridge, holding roses in the cold
asian mint, jasmine, leather

the smell of summer storms
sweat & talking trees

or the outline of each
ghost in the dying

street lights, do you see
honeydew moon

dripping thick pale
glow, the lackadaisical black of before

night when the sky
is needles, spilt paint

or cracks in pavement
you keep to yourself or keep

avoiding some people
like the way it feels, the sound

of stillness returning to self
actual factory settings

air after the rain
when all the air

is silk, soft as ripe fruit
flesh, hand in hand

walking under
the bridge again


CHRIS CAMPANIONI’s new book is Death of Art (C&R Press). His recent work appears in Ambit, RHINO, Public Pool, and The Brooklyn Rail. His “Billboards” poem responding to Latino stereotypes and mutable—and often muted—identity in the fashion world was awarded an Academy of American Poets Prize and his novel Going Down was selected as Best First Book at the 2014 International Latino Book Awards. He edits PANK and Tupelo Quarterly and lives in Brooklyn.