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BIO
Jan Wiezorek writes from Barron Lake in Michigan. He has taught writing at St. Augustine College, Chicago, and his poetry has appeared or is forthcoming at The London Magazine, Yes Poetry, L’Ephemere Review, Words Dance, Adelaide Literary Magazine, Leaping Clear, and Cabildo Quarterly. Jan is author of Awesome Art Projects That Spark Super Writing (Scholastic, 2011). He also writes about unsung heroes for The Paper in Buchanan, Michigan, and did so formerly as a freelancer for the Chicago Tribune. Jan holds a master’s degree in English Composition/Writing from Northeastern Illinois University, Chicago.
Son-ship
I have now stopped being a son.
I noticed that at age 64. Son-ship
is familial and active: like weather,
it juxtaposes moisture and heat,
and haven’t we all said this family
is so turbulent? Unpredictable?
No prophet to explain our dreams.
The recurrence of denigration
and idealism resounds in son-ship,
which we were. When I opened
the drawer, I saw a “hello” badge,
plastic with its pin. It said, “Son.”
So now I know what I am not.
Regarding son-ship, I navigated
that once, along a canal and out
to sea. Sometimes I forced
collision, but most often I just
sounded the horn and avoided
others in the harbor as I fled.
Freedom beyond son-ship
sprays its own mist and waves.
Altercation
This tortured event in me will become
just words and faces and gestures.
It will denigrate and shout distances
and experiments, so soft in growing
with sitting plants. I will look at their
comfort in these places, and how they will
find senses rather than harass or threaten,
as if the other were intended.
What will I remember
more than earth and sun?
What will become is right for us, as
also right for bees, butterflies, birds.
Few words will be exchanged.
This event will become distant,
forty feet separating vulgarities.
This will become pleasure
and “nestling in.” This will be done
as a barrier forever and ever,
so few words will be exchanged.
Forty feet will separate the parties
that a butterfly will traverse.
This event will be distant, taking
such a long time to label that it
will become species.
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