Joshua Gage

Tupilak in Lake Effect


      The ice rattles
      in the harbor
      of your windows
      with a dance of snowflakes.
      The serpents and horses
      shiver the cup
      like bones. Chains
      echo the lightning
      of Jack’s flowers and ferns.
      The landscape is a trampled scripture
      alone by the dying embers
      of 1,000 frosted ghost ships.
      Dangling their noose,
      illuminated manuscripts
      squeeze the gospel
      out of your forgotten hearth.


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