Welcome to “Poetry at The Arts Fuse.” A new poem, every Thursday.

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The Midnight Work

What’s in it for me?

The thing itself

at sea. The read, the take.

 

Beneath, a fear

  in lake

of sleep,

“I will not wake.”

 

I am as it, by yesteryear

          all edged,

death-centered,

  ill-befitted

to the itness

 of the now

 

An ache across the prow

occludes the nose,

deserts the tongue in

mouth.

 

It is the heat

this colic work of heart

and limbic risk,

my ego is

such as it is

what’s in it.

 

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Poet, translator, and essayist Jennifer Moxley lives and teaches in Maine. For more about her work visit jennifer.moxley.com

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Note: Hey poets! We seek submissions of excellent poetry from across the length and breadth of contemporary poetics. See submission guidelines here. The arbiter of the feature is the magazine’s poetry editor, John Mulrooney.

— Arts Fuse editor Bill Marx