Two Poems


a brief moment:
wished to open eyes wide
until the lids
bent back
all the way
over the skull
the whole body even
turned me all inside open
but have you seen
the news
my growing sores
i hear they opened
a whole-ass rift
in the earth’s ozone
pity it is not the crust
for us to swan dive into
or jackknife
how does such a crevice
whistle how do i skin
watch spill dilate
my fingers cracking
my mother sculpted me
from black porcelain left the eyes
with exaggerated pupils
i communed with teacups
and toilets i chipped
a bit with each step
i’ve used an awful lot of glue


Marlin M. Jenkins was born and raised in Detroit. His poetry and fiction have been given homes by Indiana Review, The Rumpus, Waxwing, and Iowa Review, among others. He teaches writing and literature at University of Michigan, where he earned his MFA in poetry.