Breeze? I’ve got the wrong idea
about aid. Is it helpful to sing
to the dying about the dead?
Give me Deuteronomy, Numbers,
the Book of Unholy Dread.
Is it all taxes and make believe?
The sun sets. A purple orange.
I think it’s spoiling. What is it’s
purpose? I propose porosity or
or a proximity to the perverse.
Gilded, I’ve got an inverted sense
of degrees. Fine me. I’ve been
a two-headed, twenty-horned
hydra in a least four lives.
You do the math, am I dead
yet? I’m sick at least. Look for
my coming at the first cracking
of newborn trees. Blue smoked
horizon I will eat you with teeth.
Bad for my liver. Do you have a
lover? Do they deliver? It’s the past
now. Drink it. Raise the citadel.
The tower, the water cathedral
peels at this new level. Sun spits
before he sleeps. Gravity is strong;
the strongest at this point. It’s
pulling the light down like the bark
and tarot card panties of misbelief.
Breed the cream. I hope you’re alive,
shriveled, but coursing with bread
and butter. Blood comes to mind.
I think too much. I drink too.
Take me home to stacks of glass.
If I die now is everything complete
or incomplete? What is my mission
in the Ice World? My love is in
another skyscraper. Why so calm
Poseidon? I know, it’s cold out.
— Peter Burzynski
Peter Burzynski is a second-year PhD student in Creative Writing-Poetry at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. He holds a B.A. from the University of Wisconsin-Madison, a M.F.A. in Poetry from The New School University, and a M.A. in Polish Literature from Columbia University.
In between his studies, Peter has worked as a Sous-Chef in New York City and Milwaukee. His poetry has appeared in The Best American Poetry Blog, Yes Poetry, Thrush Poetry Review, Your Impossible Voice, The Unrorean, BORT Quarterly, Hobo Pancakes,The Great Lakes Review, Kritya, Bar None Group, Zombie Logic Review, Souvenir Lit Journal, White Stag Journal, and Fuck Poems Anthology. He has poems forthcoming from RHINO, Prick of the Spindle, The Mackinac, The Portland Review, and Forklift Ohio.
Dangling in Winter is the third of four Peter Burzynski poems that the Bar None Group will feature over the course of four months — poems that touch on Christmas, winter and, in the eyes of this reader, the debauchery that is Mardi Gras in New Orleans. We first met Peter at the 2011 Academy of American Poets Awards Ceremony in New York City where he shared with us his poem, Cemetery.