Featured in Colorado Review
Visionary Labors of the Astoria Pool
Featured, PoetryPublished Spring 2015
He only likes to build it. He doesn’t live
Where he swims, where the city has pieces,
He means to mend them, to tear the city
Pieces where it can be mended. Here
At my desk, I engage in a crisis among us.
What I’m doing is with my development.
What I’m doing these days is cutting out
The part I’ve done before. Done it for.
Our stability isn’t in question if it’s
Always in question. We can figure it out
From swimming, that we have to keep
Moving. Not just to float, but because
We can’t help ourselves. It works like this:
I build what I see, and you try to stop me.
Where he swims, where the city has pieces,
He means to mend them, to tear the city
Pieces where it can be mended. Here
At my desk, I engage in a crisis among us.
What I’m doing is with my development.
What I’m doing these days is cutting out
The part I’ve done before. Done it for.
Our stability isn’t in question if it’s
Always in question. We can figure it out
From swimming, that we have to keep
Moving. Not just to float, but because
We can’t help ourselves. It works like this:
I build what I see, and you try to stop me.
Samuel Amadon is the author of Like a Sea and The Hartford Book. He teaches in the MFA program at the University of South Carolina and edits the journal Oversound with Liz Countryman.