Issue 19 – Winter 2011 – James Capozzi

James Capozzi


Decline of Spain

           eyes in the peacock’s plumage align 
                                            with mine

          stigma and style suck at the rumored sun

          we live by certain rules, by parvenu 
                                            emerges from

          a wild interior and lowers
                                            her face

                into our palms

          wide as this outdoor 
                                 room wherein we

                          get discovered

                 we ride, dying
                    this raft 
                 under mangroves 
                             and captors

                 down a river 
                 we’ve deserved: imperious 
                 and goes wandering through

                     a land that’s all 
                     farm, its sermon 
                               and psalm

                               whispered in 
                          the lavish vines

                    I already feel them 
                       living over me

                       every day I float 
                       they grow


A Wealth of White Poses

          It’s a partisan’s fate / this souvenir pace 
          This danse enormous / a malaise enables 
          Don’t blame the church / for this enormous morass 
          Its feral danse tramples obscure peoples

          I’m ripest church / vine of pleasure 
          Sick of this degraded era 
          No sigh nor sob expelled from

          No paradisal orchard 
          The lands retrace instead of maps 
          The archive believes instead of time

         The world’s displaced / by a revolt 
         We certainly are swallowed by one day 
         Among the other slaves 
         Begging to begin, to break

         Moved to tout death before entering it
         A matin, by little postures puts
         Beneath one foot a heart the other a face

         Without anguish or language, with
                                                       faith in every posture 
         Even the sea’s lessened         another white quiver


Renfield, I

          For you this goodbye my monster my sergeant 
          with whom I rose up into war

          Who listened as my agent 
          to my nest of feckless memories 
          of the voyeurs at that dirtiest hour

          Where our names were furious verdicts 
          where you remained 
          an absolute portrait

          For you this goodbye sir my sergeant 
          who may never know defeat



James Capozzi lives in Binghamton, NY.  His book, Country Album, won the New Measure Poetry Prize and will be published by Free Verse Editions in 2011.