Poetry | Page 68 | The Common

Warriors in Art

November 1, 2015 Issue 10, Issue 10 Poetry, Poetry

Both a painting and a tableau I conceptualized in
a feature film led to this poem, to which I connect
-ed the cover photography of selected jazz albums
and paintings by George Catlin. Colonel Guy
Johnson and Karonghyontye (Captain David Hill)
(1776) is the work of Benjamin West, an eigh-
teenth-century painter born in the Pennsylvania
colony. Better known is his William Penn’s Treaty
with the Indians (1771); but I suspect the directors
of the Daniel Day-Lewis Last of the Mohicans used
it to create the film’s opening scene, where Magua
(played by Wes Studi) steps out of the shadows.

Deepest shadow.
Faces of warrior-counsel pronounce
Sinister reckonings
In hearts shaped to recall only our treacherous deeds.

In that City, In Those Circles

November 1, 2015 Issue 10, Issue 10 Poetry, Poetry

By LAWRENCE JOSEPH

In that time, in that place, a few cars, a bus, on Belle Isle
seen from this side of the river, dark blue icy river,
on the other side of the Belle Isle Bridge Uniroyal Tire’s
bright silver smoke blown over the river to Canada,
time-bound, space-bound, a distinctive industrial space,
Ford Motor Company Dumping Station, the O-So Soda Pop
warehouse, Peerless Cement, railroad tracks on
the bridge to Zug Island—the smell from Wayne
Soap enough to make you puke—Ideal Bar, icon,
Black Madonna, blood-red slash down her right cheek,

In the Dirt

November 1, 2015 Issue 10, Issue 10 Poetry, Podcasts & Audio, Poetry

By GRANT KITTRELL

I took a drive out to The Gallimaufry Goat Farm and was
struck by the vast assortment of goat life in one place.
Goats who’d go shock-still when startled, like a bolt
through the head, fall stiff as taxidermy to the ground.

In 1988

November 1, 2015 Issue 10, Issue 10 Poetry, Poetry

By DAVID LEHMAN

In 1988, I went into the unisex bathroom and read the graffiti. A
graffito from 1980 had been erased: “Support your local philosopher.
Buy a jockstrap.”

Crescent City

November 1, 2015 Issue 10, Issue 10 Poetry, Poetry

By MAURICE EMERSON DECAUL

For Lauren Cerand

In my room overlooking
the Mississippi a voice tells me: in my city we bury
our dead above ground a voice whispers
not to lean against
windows not to pry open the window

Longing, A Lion

November 1, 2015 Issue 10, Issue 10 Poetry, Poetry, Translation

By ZHENG MIN

Translated by STEPHEN HAVEN and LI YONGYI

Inside my body there is a gaping mouth,
A lion roaring
Rushing to the end of the bridge,
As the ship glides by.

The Eyewitness

November 1, 2015 Issue 10, Issue 10 Poetry, Issues, Poetry, Translation

By YU NU

Translated by STEPHEN HAVEN and LI YONGYI

Morning air pumped off, cannabis-induced despondency
Replaced him and her. Far away, his ball-playing days,
His cap floating on the river, his soft tissues
Like severed seaweeds. This happened in 1976.