Ecuador Poem

By CRALAN KELDER

Playa d’Oro
The canopy above ajerk with toucans
ajerk with toucan, and no,
you can’t eat them,
so sorry.

let’s draw an arbitrary line,
at something we’ll call reality
something we’ll call when we need it,
keep at a distance when we don’t

in the travel journal i thought that there was plenty of material,
plenty of poems.
I was mistaken it
turns out to be a bunch of lists.

back in these here united states
I don’t want to look back in regret, but i do feel fortunate

it’s the little things: being awake near dawn,
as it rears through a window
silent profound and blue,
and the first movement of birds their
voices quiet at first and then rising, raucous

riding a bike under fall trees
ok I admit it
maybe they aren’t so little,
these things.

 

Cralan Kelder is the author of Give Some Word. His work has recently appeared in Zen Monster, Poetry Salzberg Review, and VLAK, among other publications. Kelder currently edits the literary magazines Full Metal Poem and Retort. He lives in Amsterdam with the evolutionary biologist Toby Kiers and their children.

Ecuador Poem

Related Posts

Dispatches from Mullai Nilam, Marutha Nilam, and Neithal Nilam

VIJAYALAKSHMI
There is fire everywhere, / both inside and outside. / Unaware of the intensity of the fire, / they maintain silence / like the serenity of a corpse. / From the burning fire / bursts out a waterfall tainted in red. / All over the shores have bloomed / the flaming lilies of motherhood.

When I Go to Chicago

SHELLEY STENHOUSE
When I Go to Chicago, things break. The last time, on the last day, the pipes in the kitchen burst and flooded my parents’ blonde wood floor. When I’m up in that 87th floor apartment, I look at the sky’s blank expression. I keep the little square office window open for the sliver of nature.

Black and white image of a bird with a long neck

Dispatch from Marutha Nilam

SAKTHI ARULANANDHAM
With the swiftness and dexterity / of a hawk that pounces upon a chicken / and takes it by force, / the bird craves / snapping up a vast terrain / with its powerful, sharp beak / and flying away with it. // When that turns out to be impossible, / in the heat of its great big sigh, / all the rivers dry up.