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EDITORIAL

ARCHIVE

LAGNIAPPE

MAST

SUBMISSIONS

Two Poems
by Sam Cherubin

The Guy Who Discovered A New Sea

I looked
where no one else did.

The waves ran backwards from the shore.
I made sure to make a note of that.

Who would have thought
that on top of a mountain

eyelashes stuck together
piss frozen in mid-stream

I’d hear the song of tropical birds
watch spider-legged fish

on flotation pods
stroke tender furry tree-fern trunks.

The water had certain
alcoholic properties

but at other times
it tasted like fudge swirl.

Canadian Literature

In Canada, poets are born underneath the ice
which booms and cracks as they awaken.

They grow as tall as fir trees
and live in houses made of snow.

They have big thick bones.
They drink sea water like gulls.

Their color changes with the seasons:
in Autumn they are gold and red

and in Winter, purple-brown.
Their poems are published on rocks and bark.

Canadian poets never have to worry about jobs
food or civilization, like us.

Tell the Canadian poets, tall as fir trees:

hey, look up, stop wrestling with bears.
Don’t be anxious about America.

Our heads may be empty
but our faces are filled with night.

Come down, sweet-syrupy Mounties
come down to us and bring your bread.