Patrick Carrington


Come close, let’s talk about love. When the world
has been rough with us, when it begins
defining us by our disorders,
it’s there we should start. It is good
to remember that is the cradle
we come from. I think of tonight as an inamorata
who is not tired when I carry her home,
as one night I won’t pace
scars into the hardwood. Of morning, when it appears
in the half-light of what might not be
a dream, as never quite spoiled,
a valid reason to chew through the straps, the start
of one short trip I will live with my whole heart.
The distance between any two places
is so much larger than a map. It doesn’t matter
how far they get, how near they become,
there will always be room for longing. Think of me
as a bottomless valley with a river
cut through him. No matter how hard it rains, I
will never be filled. Think of each moment
as a soldier with a finger in the pin,
suddenly realizing, I know better than this. Think
of how many things are shaped like a cross,
of worshipping at the shrine of our intersecting secrets
or at the stake of me burnt --
Stars are about to push their way out
of the sky. Let’s let them go
about their lonely business and dance. No waltz
could ever be too slow, no closeness close enough.

Patrick Carrington is the author of 3 volumes of poetry -- Hard Blessings (MSR Publishing, 2008), Thirst (Codhill, 2007), and Rise, Fall and Acceptance (MSR Publishing, 2006) -- and winner of New Delta Review’s Matt Clark Prize and Yemassee’s Pocataligo Contest in poetry. His poems are forthcoming in The American Poetry Journal, Notre Dame Review, Poet Lore, Tar River Poetry, and American Literary Review. He’s the poetry editor at Mannequin Envy. "Expanding on the Theory of Horseshoes and Hand Grenades" was first published in West Branch.

Current | Archives    Submit | Masthead    Links | Donate   Contact | Sundress