We all hear prophecy from the canopy
it has nothing to do but sound, no job
no instructional manual
& then someone said the death of a scream
& then someone said weeping in the tangerine
glow of the check engine light & then someone,
of the spring sky, almost distressingly bright and blue
beneath stillstark brownbarren trees, said you’re still expecting
a backdrop that’s raw and gray with uncanny specificity
& then someone said the end of rainbow
& then someone said like the closet, the attic is
no solitary act & if the whole is dark enough
any squiggle can call itself a flower.
Isaac Pickell is a Black and Jewish poet and PhD student in Detroit. He is the author of everything saved will be last (Black Lawrence Press, 2021) and It’s not over once you figure it out (Black Ocean, forthcoming 2023), and his recent work appears in Brevity, Copper Nickel, Denver Quarterly, FENCE, and Swamp Pink. Isaac’s taken a seat in all fifty states and has so much to look forward to.