poetry 0
Joseph Spece


In this habit of rotting

the root fails to make do.


Wide blueblack straits

spied from the shore

recall this darling

aporia of mine.


I’m to be given thus

a crozier, I’ll wander to meet

an elder grown so wise she’s

taken leaf;

and on that barrow

spirit will slip free from body,

quite azure.


On that barrow

body will see the body

in summary,

put hand to his throat as if


a sentence had caught there.


Joseph Spece is editor at Sharkpack Poetry Review. His poems and fiction have recently appeared in Agni, 3:A M, Berfrois, Orion, and Tri-Quarterly. His first book of poems, Roads (Cherry Grove), was published in 2013.