Jennifer Pilch Poems







Now was 

the matted ear on a blurred ivory dog 



the polished spoon 

seen not as it reflected, capsizes 

what we reflect on now



vague glint from the pin of a downed 




In any era we know of



But the wife of a cartographer 

no one knew, first woman 

to breadth the sea, first women 

to give anything up



To Hell With Mind!   heard as if from sirens



She left a bit for you

begging space to map 



Flares prop figureheads 

thankful for her mercy





Jennifer Pilch is a poet and visual artist.  Her poems have appeared in such journals as American Letters and Commentary, Cutbank, Denver Quarterly, Drunken Boat, Fence, The Iowa Review, and New American Writing. Profil Perdu, a chapbook, is forthcoming from Greying Ghost Press.




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