Justin Groppuso-Cook

We Are Nowhere & It’s Now

My strands of hair are little antennas.
I can tune into the signals,

let the channel flow through me; I stir
my reflection in the bubbles

that pool together in the periphery
of my coffee mug—there is so much

to listen in for. Nowhere are we
absent in living: this forever,

then some. We can fit infinity
within an inch, then some. Rope taps

the flag pole—resonant—
to a tempo set in dust. A howl

picks up, pushes these torn-out pages
to the floor. The hinges creak;

doors moan as they open themselves.
Foliage sounds of light rain,

the beating wings of a hummingbird
standing still. This is nothing

new; these are not my words. A coyote
leaves her tracks where the mesas

spread open. Twilight slips into
an arroyo. It’s out there. I promise.

What it is? I couldn’t tell. Not because
of secrecy but of breadth. I call out

a name, but the only reception is my voice
rolling back along the canyon walls.

Justin Groppuso-Cook‘s poetry is forthcoming in The Tiger Moth Review, Haunted Waters Press, and Luna Luna Magazine. He received a Pushcart Prize nomination for his work in Duende. In 2022, he will be a resident at Carve Magazine’s Writing Workshops Paris. More information can be found on his website, www.sunnimani.com.

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