Poem of the Week: Josh Hockensmith

in our bodies now

orange blossoms
_____over her childhood yard
__________a grasshopper’s long arc

__________grasshopper’s long arc
_____over her childhood yard
a shimmering

shimmering
_____on the motel window
__________trickles of sweat

__________trickles of sweat
_____on the motel window
a sickly flicker

sickly flicker
_____the tv’s radiant breath
__________on her naked arm

__________on her naked arm
_____the tv’s radiant breath
goosebumps

goosebumps
_____her sunburst tattoo
__________rayed with wrinkles

__________rayed with wrinkles
_____her sunburst tattoo
still aglow

still aglow
_____the iris’s purple yearning
__________in our bodies now

__________in our bodies now
_____the iris’s purple yearning
the dead fire’s heat

NOTES: This poem was originally published in South x Southeast v.13 no.3.
“In our bodies now” is in a form I call a ‘floating-leaf’ haiku sequence, due to the drifting, swaying repetition of the lines. Each three-line grouping is written to stand alone as a haiku, but each new line also contributes to the poem’s progress as a unified whole.
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Mild-mannered library assistant by day, Josh Hockensmith turns into a mild-mannered poet, translator and book artist by night. He produces artists’ books, small editions, and blank books under the name . His artists’ books are held in library collections around the country. He is also a contributing editor to the English-language haiku journal South by Southeast. His work has appeared in Cafe Irreal, Versal, and Oyster Boy Review, among others.