Good Boy
By Kazim Ali
Poetry is love for the felt fact.
—Susan Howe
Good boy for know enow I no
I-land disappear in the aft oh brave
Noh whorl in the riven hand scriven
A ridge down which waves ruff
Aves spindle in air spun the jour
Made from amber antler bone
Nohow swale apport no one star
To now credo bray veneer worn
Who had known his feres so swole
He felt the beld heads en tranced
Felt trun a trem bren trough he
Swink to sain he wont to awin that
Awn unsparing the vessel respawn
And sware to be cered be yourn
Oh good boy good boy
Source: Poetry (November 2020)