Hopeless

Hopeless! you add more salt
the way another spoonful
rows you across, the spray

clouding over with shoreline
—this soup has to be heated again
spread out as if night after night

you need a bigger pot
already with its darkness
caked on to these stars coming by

so early—to the same place
and for a second time are trembling
cling without touching your face.









Simon Perchik’s poetry has appeared in Partisan Review, The Nation, The New Yorker and elsewhere. He lives in East Hampton, NY. His most recent collection is Almost Rain, published by River Otter Press (2013). For more information, including free e-books, his essay titled “Magic, Illusion and Other Realities” please visit his website at www.simonperchik.com

Read another 2.3 poem here.