Poetry: Calvin Olsen
Calvin Olsen’s (Poetry 2011) poems and translations have recently appeared or are forthcoming in The Missouri Review Online, Tar River Poetry, Gravel, and The Interpreter’s House, among many others. His current projects include a book-length manuscript, a translation of the collected works of Alberto de Lacerda, and an extensive undertaking at tenthousandhaiku.com.
TERRITORY
The owl’s eyes are perfect
circles the color of hay
almost ready for harvest
but backlit. The owl’s wings
seem longer than they are,
tilted for a banking left
the end of which will draw
up and flutter onto the fence post,
claws out at the last moment—
they displace so much
air it pushes against you
like a hand. The owl lives
in the attic, not asking invitation,
asking entrance. The sun sets
and there he is, crumpled
into his own body: the world below
his perch is full of unsurprising things
and all the tiny little bones
he’s never allowed into himself
clenched in brittle fists.
I WISH THE MOON
I wish I was the moon.
I wish you were the moon.
I wish the moon was me
And I was you and you were
The moon. I would tell myself
To stay, and you would say
I’m growing larger by descent.
And the moon would say I’m sorry
But this is all so confusing
And we would say I wish
I was the moon. We would all fall
From the sky, hitting the earth
In succession, raking a handful of dirt,
Placing a seed in each finger
Returning the dirt and reciting
This prayer: grow always in moonlight,
Grow the direction you started
Growing the day you were sowed,
Grow through the soil and then
Grow some more, to hell with the birds.