O unnamed & only 
son too soon
slipped from tender clutch
of unripe body
 
from cursed branch
I will hang 
what’s left of you
until you bloom into bone
 
unnamed & only
aviary of ribcage
I will play what is 
reft from me
 
& cradle the hole
what is singing

This article appears in November 16 2015.

Philip Metres is the author of numerous books of poetry and prose, including Dispatches from the Land of Erasure. He is a professor of English at John Carroll University.