Two Poems

Pinion

The word for what
Rain owe do to what we
butcher: cure.

Rain oBeware the noun
that tricks itself
Rain oout as a verb.

There’s no ellipsis 
Rain ohalf as skeptical
as Sure . . .

Rain oEnglish is
as tricky as
Rain othe English were.

What you think you
Rain oshape shape-
shifts from verse to worse.

Rain oThe word for wing
becomes the word for 
Rain ocrippling a bird.

Flag

Rain oOld Ignominy:
Thirteen stripes scarring a slave’s
Rain oback quench fifty stars

*

Rain oAll it has to do
to remind me how fiercely  
Rain oI love it is burn

*

Rain oWhen cord whips flagpole
whether or not we name it
Rain othe hurricane’s here

*

Rain oThis is where they come:
even a tower in flames
Rain ois someone’s lighthouse

*

Rain oPledging allegiance
is how I learned which side of 
Rain omy chest my heart’s on

*

Rain oWhen you fold a dream 
into a triangle the
Rain ocoffin is your own

—

Amit Majmudar‘s newest poetry collection is What He Did in Solitary (Knopf, 2020). His verse translation of the Bhagavad-Gita is entitled Godsong (Knopf, 2018). He has served as Ohio’s first Poet Laureate, and he is also a diagnostic nuclear radiologist and internationally published novelist.