Bevel by Reuben Gelley Newman Jasper Johns, Pinion, Lithograph, 1963-1966; after Elizabeth Bishop Hang a wire beneath a spread of plenty. Choose a specific word with a meaning No one quite knows. Diagram yourself As ruler, thermometer, ambiguous Cans of soup. Painstakingly Test the temperature of the invisible Cake in the baking pan. Set the timer again: when it buzzes, take the cake and run with it. Crash the wedding. Rub Your body on the page. Say you don’t understand. Foot, foot, knee, hand, hand.
First published in Petrichor
I really really like this almost-sonnet. The way it moves down the shape, and the way the narrowing of it fits the subject matter. The implications of the invisible cake. Invisible dreams? Invisible love? And the rhyme gives the end a feeling of certainty which is ironic in the context of the poem's uncertainty. And thanks for introducing me to a journal I hadn't heard of, or if I had heard of it, I'd forgotten about.
What really struck me in this poem is how it feels like stepping into someone’s creative workshop, where nothing has to make perfect sense to feel true. The images come at you sideways — wires, soup cans, rulers — and somehow they all fit together in this odd, playful logic. I love the way the poem treats the act of making as something messy and physical, almost like you have to throw yourself into it to understand anything. The invisible cake made me smile; it feels like a metaphor for checking on something you can’t quite name. And then the poem suddenly turns bold, telling you to crash a wedding or rub your body on the page, as if creativity demands a little recklessness. The final rhythm — foot, foot, knee, hand, hand — feels like choreography for a mind trying to find its balance. It’s strange, but in a way that feels strangely alive.