Spring 2014 • Vol. XXXVI No. 2 Poetry |

Exhibition

And where would you have put The imaginary annelid if not in the comic Near-embrace of the black lacquered scorpion All in the glow of the bowl of a sulphur Yellow tulip whose stem promptly ends Implying a surface, strange vertical slatted Shadow "under" the upturned filbert Cups as if they rest in a shallow niche Overhung with roman capital script proceeding In reverse, the descending lengths of some Of the ascenders is perverse, as Twin horns of the larkspurs just A shade away from the faintly rusting Tulip head they curve to adorn are, the worm Has "horns" too, confusing the tools The arms brandish that would draw it Viciously, very pointedly, toward the mouth?

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Emily Wilson is the author of two poetry collections, The Keep (2001) and Micrographia (2009), both from University of Iowa Press. She lives with her husband and two sons in Iowa City.

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Hibernal

By Emily Wilson

And where would you have put The imaginary annelid if not in the comic Near-embrace of the black lacquered scorpion All in the glow of the bowl of a sulphur […]

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