Michael Trocchia

MOTION IN A PATH TO MYSELF

I grip the sudden
memory and fade

against the insane
star. I stuff the shapeless

wind with some raw
idea of it and pause

before the opening
gate. I devise the flat

escape and then axe
the wrists of the witness

in me. My hands break
into birdsong sung under

breath. I yield the eye
and turn the ear inside

out for the whispering
sufficiency of things

near. My face grows
clockwise. It strikes me

each time I look away.

UNDO FORCES

Hand it to yourself,
friend, the dust of this

faraway coinage. Find
yourself in the nth

country, under its ought—
bitten skies, be amused

by the shouts
of its shattering

boys in brass. Instigate
the landscape, its damning

effect. Come away
from it. All of us will

run from the nth
country. So be

good. Roam with us
who roam like geese

through widening streets
where a trumpet erupts

inside the skull,
into a troubling

form of hillside
and hollow.

__________________________

Michael Trocchia grew up on Long Island. He received an M.A. in philosophy from Temple University.  He currently lives in Virginia, where he teaches philosophy at James Madison University and works in the university’s library. His poetry and prose have appeared in Mid-American Review, Asheville Poetry Review, Open Letters Monthly, Caketrain, elimae, Tar River Poetry, Camera Obscura Journal, The Dirty Napkin, and NOO Journal. Work is forthcoming in Pear Noir!. 

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  1. Pingback: Behind the Muse: with Michael Trocchia | Art Lotto

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