Jason Morphew: They Bleed Again
Photo: Joanna C. Valente
Men’s Warehouse
after James Dickey
Here they are
the blank eyes
open if they have
worked in a cubicle
it’s a cubicle if in
construction it’s
steel toes and
4x4 forever.
Having no souls
they have come
anyway despite
their knowing
weakness battens
and they rise.
The blank eyes open.
To match them
the cold floor
flowers outdoing
what is required—
the beigest wall
the sharpest nail.
It could not be a place
of men without blood
so they hunt
callscript and hammer
more perfect
than they can believe
they stalk more loudly
crouch on couches
and their descent
upon the soft ears
of their prey takes
centuries a coffin
floating through
waterfalls of joy
and the hunted
know this
as their life to
strut under
highrise windows
iPhone gazing
in full knowledge
of the glory
above them
and to feel no fear
but acceptance
compliance
fulfilled without
pain at the soft
skull’s center
they tremble they
strut under the
highrise window
they fall they are torn
they rise they bleed
again.
Jason Morphew started life in a mobile home in Pike County, Arkansas; he has a PhD in English Renaissance Literature from UCLA. The Washington Post calls Morphew’s 2018 full-length collection dead boy a “striking debut . . . presented with an edginess and sharp intelligence that make the poems pop.” His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Seneca Review, Smartish Pace, and Bellevue Literary Review, among other journals. He’s taught English at UCLA, UC Davis, and Mt. St. Mary’s University. As a singer-songwriter, Morphew has released albums on Brassland, Ba Da Bing, Max, and Unread. He lives in Laurel Canyon with his family.
