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| Duration: | 01:42 |
| Uploaded: | 2020-06-12 |
| Last sync: | 2024-04-12 01:00 |
Tay Zonday reads Robin Beth Schaer's poem, "Fathom".
Tay Zonday:
https://twitter.com/TayZonday
https://www.youtube.com/TayZonday
Brought to you by Complexly, The Poetry Foundation, and poet Paige Lewis. Learn more: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/
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#poetry #ourspoetica
Tay Zonday:
https://twitter.com/TayZonday
https://www.youtube.com/TayZonday
Brought to you by Complexly, The Poetry Foundation, and poet Paige Lewis. Learn more: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/
11 issues of Poetry, subscribe today for $20: https://poetrymagazine.org/OursPoetica
Follow us elsewhere for the full Ours Poetica experience:
twitter.com/ourspoeticashow
instagram.com/ourspoeticashow
facebook.com/ourspoeticashow
#poetry #ourspoetica
I'm Tay Zonday and I'm going to read Fathom by Robin Beth Schaer.
The dogs understand your heart
and know something of the taste
of salt. We live off incense and coins,
herding coveys of waves, wrenching
down the blues. I begged and pouted
all this cotton, but what use
is stooping to nothing. The sea
refused twenty corroded decades
before ours. Sometimes, the nets
raise a god in a flash of minnows.
Sometimes, matted ferns claim you,
their breath a weapon paused at the eye.
Always, we are capsized by the impossible
child in a thicket of empty books.
The dogs understand your heart
and know something of the taste
of salt. We live off incense and coins,
herding coveys of waves, wrenching
down the blues. I begged and pouted
all this cotton, but what use
is stooping to nothing. The sea
refused twenty corroded decades
before ours. Sometimes, the nets
raise a god in a flash of minnows.
Sometimes, matted ferns claim you,
their breath a weapon paused at the eye.
Always, we are capsized by the impossible
child in a thicket of empty books.