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.