Apotheosis or Nadir


By Jeff Handy

What better portrait of our age than watching in my underwear
                                     the livestream of the International Space Station in orbit,
          the bowstring of atmosphere              zip-sealed and backlit
                        against the cold void of space.            The earth         shot through with light
summed in a frame:     apertures to name and take up.                       Every town
                                                                                                  a hometown
                         horizonless enough to fence the children in. 
                                      I could put pants on,   stand at an ordinary intersection
                                                               to see a car collapse to a point.
Triangle limbs sprawl to attach wet wire down a length,       chancing
            to catch the body and the spark                     at once. 
                                                 What is a cloud if not an inkwell spilling out?
             The navel will meet the spine.                                    A shadow
                         the moon’s unfocused black,
                                                              veering toward a shape.


Jeff Handy’s poetry has previously appeared or is forthcoming in Canto MagazineGandy DancerSOFTBLOWThe Southern Humanities Review, and elsewhere. He is an Associate Poetry Editor at DIALOGIST and an AmeriCorps member serving in Austin, TX. You can find him on Twitter @j3ffhandy.

Photo Credit: Astrid Caratzas

Photo Credit: Astrid Caratzas