William Keckler
Sep 29, 2023
Image credit: Pexels

Your innocent violence
goes through me like water.
I watch you in the tidal pools
of sun; it lets me see

the boil of photons
in the simple orange patch,
because your curt eyes do.
You show such patience

with me. I’m stupid to my own
violence, everywhere, which
you see, nakedly. My violent
innocence opening the can

like a funny Eucharist

while you wait before your shadow.



William Keckler

Writer, visual artist. Books include Sanskrit of the Body, which won in the U.S. National Poetry Series (Penguin).