“God of Mildew” by Peter Schireson (poetry, ’17)

An excerpt from “God of Mildew” by Peter Schireson (poetry, ’17) published at The American Journal of Poetry:

God of Mildew

Like a caper in an old movie—

piquant, a couple of martinis, a hint of grace—

our conversation snakes through

a disarray of language in the dark restaurant.

Thinking grinds its meanings.

I begin to tell it.

I wake at two or three a.m. most nights, grumpy, leaden-eyed, sweat in elbow creases, behind my knees, around my neck. Sostenuto of tidings from the body. One night last week, I was hungry for olives. Eating them, I thought about sunlight on olive trees, then thought, It’s a mistake to think so much, just eat the olives. Then I thought, Thinking that thinking is a mistake might also be a mistake. I bought a nightingale. All night it sang and flew around.  Fucking nightingale!

I try to imagine beautiful futures,

old cities in leaf like ancient trees.

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