St. Who by Aaron Coleman

Who is not callous, not cattle
moving in sequence, a cataract of time,
of blue-grained lusciousness
a green scythe illumined in moon –
who is not night corkscrewed, not chrysalis tearing into
what we will call heavy in an eye.

Who is not moon moving
in sequence clobbered by time           blue or grain heavy
green lusciousness –           or night scythed           a cataract
of cattle           illumined in corkscrews,           chrysalises
tearing into what
we will           call callousness.

Who is not blue and heavy with time
moving in sequence           mooned
or green grain cattled
amongst scattered chrysalises           corkscrewed into
night called will           scythed, called           lusciousness tearing,
illumined, called           what we will.

Who is not lusciousness corkscrewed
in time,           cattle scattered,
a sequence scythed, illumined           like grain
clobbered in moonblue, called a heavy chrysalis
of will, a cataract, tearing
green night, calloused,           you and I.
Aaron Coleman’s first full-length collection, Threat Come Close, is forthcoming from Four Way Books in March 2018. Winner of the 2015 Button Poetry Prize for the chapbook, St. Trigger, as well as the Tupelo Quarterly TQ5 Poetry Contest and the Cincinnati Review Robert and Adele Schiff Award, Aaron is also a Fulbright Scholar and Cave Canem Fellow. Aaron’s poems have appeared in journals including Boston Review, FENCE and New York Times Magazine. Aaron is currently a PhD candidate in Comparative Literature at Washington University St. Louis.