Peter Campion Poem before Sunrise This image of a hole
planted behind my eyes.Swivelled whirlpool that curves
right through me. Central bolesawed from a tree of nerves.
This is the urge that liesbehind the throb of seeing.
This is the barest forcegiving up to the wish
of whatever greater being:little transparent fish
dragged on its one coursethrough forests of coral flowers
seeking the break of day.Whatever way this power
pulls me: ... ok ... ok ...
Originally published in
Other People (U of Chicago, 2005)