from Against Creation

apprehension like

a depth of blank paper

having lost my faith
is an ongoingness

towards a line flight

the silence of birds

for example
elicits in me dread

the eye-flash aslant
to the blooming throat

a sun collapses into
the bees

jilt the butterfly weed
where I approach

a borrowed thought

a shadow
trembles the leaves

speak back

the bower slants over

the place I call “myself”

a reflection-laden wild

what I cannot say but find
a way to write in

the unending null

a childhood music box

all but inaudible

nothing holds me

earth-bound here

in pursuit but not possession

a sun-distance gleams in

the wings of a beetle

as if a limb

still composing

forgetting myself & you

become a note

I sing into
the leftover rainwater

pools randomly congruent
in the field’s hallow

a form surrendering to

the permission of day


C Dylan Bassett is a graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. He is the author of The Invention of Monsters / Plays for the Theater (Plays Inverse, 2015), and four additional chapbooks. His recent poems are published or forthcoming in Black Warrior Review, Gulf Coast, Ninth Letter, Sonora Review, Washington Square and elsewhere.