Cradle Song

By CODY WALKER

You’re just a baby,
And as such, may be
Susceptible to lies
(And wonder, and surprise):

Left is hither,
Hither is yon,
Santa Claus has a Santa mask on;
Right is backwards,
Backwards is broken;
Baby’s first words go unspoken:
You’re just a dad—
Spark-lit and sad—
And I’m you, in training,
And I’m gaining.

 

Cody Walker is the author of Shuffle and Breakdown. His work appears in Shenandoah, Parnassus, Slate, Subtropics, The Best American Poetry, The Yale Review, Light Quarterly, Poetry Northwest, and The Hecht Prize Anthology. Elected Seattle Poet Populist for 2007-2008, he lives in Ann Arbor and teaches English at the University of Michigan.

[Purchase your copy of Issue 02 here.]

Cradle Song

Related Posts

Image of the book cover of The Morning Line, featuring a man wearing a hat.

September 2021 Poetry Feature: David Lehman’s The Morning Line

DAVID LEHMAN
You can pick horses on the basis of their names / and gloat when Justify wins racing’s Triple Crown / or when, in 1975, crowd favorite Ruffian, “queen / of the century,” goes undefeated until she breaks down / in a match race with Derby winner Foolish Pleasure.

Bogota

Translation: Poems by María Paz Guerrero

MARÍA PAZ GUERRERO
Time fills with holes / and puts the scarce body / into one of them // It covers its skeleton of wind / so the current / doesn’t rub against its prickly outside // The air would split into smithereens / if it were touched by the spines // It doesn’t seek to become cuts on the cheek