Paul's Letter to the Corinthians (2)
Matthew Minicucci

Paul's Letter to the Corinthians (2)

There’s a reason Greek has a vocative case: any thorn in flesh you can find; rocks pitted against high tide. You decide, then mind the pits, poison, or bitter taste of the olive’s uncured flesh. A metaphor, perhaps, and to be expected, or expunged depending on the context. It’s not that fruit isn’t possible at this moment, it’s just unlikely. Perhaps winter. Perhaps a blight of unknown origins: pathogenic organism; the blind white chlorosis of fungi. I don’t mean to explain these things. I stand only as a farmer of men. My path took roads with no soil to speak of, so I leave this tree with you. My chains keep me here, rooted, a moment blind. Forgive this crude hand. It speaks only in looped alphas, or alephs—if we must—which always seem to find the day’s last, silent light.

Matthew Minicucci

is the author of two collections of poetry: Translation (Kent State University Press, 2015), chosen by Jane Hirshfield for the 2014 Wick Poetry Prize, and Small Gods, forthcoming from New Issues Press in 2017. His work has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies, including Best New Poets 2014, Poetry Daily, and Verse Daily, among others. He currently teaches writing at the University of Illinois at Urbana/Champaign.