Current
Issue
Volume 12.1
Brian Johnson
—
Untitled
I want a balloon at stupid times, and champagne
When I’ve done nothing: I want to see
The northern lands, such as a prince visits
When overcome by grief: I want to be someone’s brother,
Mine having all died, and no sister:
I want to be fatherless. I can make another
Of balsa wood, or paper and crayolas,
Smiling at the pool, smoking, laughing away:
I want to be dismissed from this house
And moved to the greater company.
No Revolt
I make no sound, leave no papers, take no path to the cabin.
I have no rope and no hesitation.
I see no end. I see no event.
I walk by no pond, stand in no soft rain or sunlight.
I give no offense to members of the family:
I recognize no one, red-dog no one, ransom no one.
I read no signs and follow no numbers.
I lay no body down, visit no body's town.
I arrange for no meadows to be viewed in the morning,
I arrange for no towers to be seen at night.
You-Show
You dim, you disintegrate, I am not surprised
The no-faced wind comes in, and a scattering
Of bird vocalese and dog barks—March, pointless
To me. I have one fate, today, and one punishment
Bent to my writer’s desk, glowering, for you
To show up—a parade, a head-toss, a corner of the park.
It’s my age. It’s my sins, my family of sins.
If I could find the word to make the world, and us,
An oyster for nobody’s eating, a station for nobody’s burning,
The silence would spread itself, all softness, for good.
Brian Johnson is the author of Self-Portrait, a chapbook; Torch Lake and Other Poems, a finalist for the Norma Farber First Book Award; and Site Visits, a collaborative work with the German painter Burghard Müller-Dannhausen. His work has appeared in several anthologies and many journals, including Bennington Review, Massachusetts Review, West Branch, and Posit. He directs the first-year writing program at Southern Connecticut State University and teaches composition, poetry, and rhetoric.
