The history of your lips would be the history of your eyes and what they
did not say so that my lips would have to ask your mouth to move or
be silent, and then the history would haunt or horse around the history
of the zipper, the history of the button, the buttonhole, the history of
the light on or off, which is the history of the new bedsheets as of this
moment, out of needles, out of fields of plants, whose seeds are hidden in
clouds that come and come bursting right there in the middle of the field,
depending on the history of run-off and pesticides and weevils, whose
history is deeper than kisses but not longer than two bodies separating in
a darkness on a hurt, naked earth.
— Jeff Oaks
Jeff Oaks lives in Lawrenceville and teaches at the University of Pittsburgh. His
new chapbook, Mistakes with Strangers, will be published this year by Seven
Kitchens Press. He’s published poems most recently in Field, Rhino, North
American Review and Bloom. Many writers featured in Chapter & Verse are guests of Prosody, produced by Jan Beatty and Ellen Wadey. Prosody airs every Saturday morning on 90.5 FM.