New Yorker: Armantrout

only Rae Armantrout could get a poem not about sailboats in the New Yorker (April 7, 2008)


Integer

1.

One what?

One grasp?

No hands.

No collection

of stars. Something dark

pervades it.

2.

Metaphor
is ritual sacrifice.

It kills the look-alike.

No,
metaphor is homeopathy.

A healthy cell
exhibits contact inhibition.

3.

These temporary credits
will no longer be reflected
in your next billing period.

4.

“Dark” meaning
not reflecting,

not amenable
to suggestion.