JOHNMICHAEL SIMON POETRY

this alchemy

that mutates forest into book

flower into song

stick of charcoal into sketch

bayonet into ballpoint

 

is all the history you’ll

ever taste, dear worm

 

a meal of printer’s ink,

canvas, pigment

held together with what used to be

a tree trunk

 

munch away, consume, consume

digest, fill your intestine with it

Battle of Hastings

ballerinas, boy’s in blue

sunflowers

 

you’ll never find it

despite all evidence

that something, some magic ingredient

a secret condiment

has made this meal so tasty

 

and all the rest’s a legend

prepared by an absent chef