On a Pose of Virgil’s

Near its peak, the mountain requires nearly no
effort to climb. There is no sky behind the flags,
barges of pretty silt. Some wrestlers oil themselves
to prevent a grip, others rub grit on their skin

to help it. In the cartoon, Orpheus puts glasses on
the back
of his head and walks in reverse. The pastor’s white
collar is a foam neck brace. I am sorry to hear,
this morning, as I can’t see the mug top through

the pouring steam, that there is nothing new in
philosophy: I meant to tell you a story but cannot
keep myself interested long enough to describe
the pinewoods exactly. I can never remember jokes,

but there were twenty-four flavors of syrup for
the soft-serve, as for an entire day of ice cream,
and a man near the summit holding his palms fast to
the grass, waiting for the dew to come so he could
wash.

— Zach Savich, from Full Catastrophe Living

T. S. Poetry

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