Poetry: Arko by Austin LaGrone
LaGrone’s “Arko” elapses within a single sentence, tucking moons and bones and love into its nine couplets. The poem gathers its imagery on the backs of short, delicate three and four syllable lines—a fragility that LaGrone bears with envious ease.
Arko
Today we will get along
without syntax
like birdcage cuttlebones
or the wings
that fold over
Archipenko’s gravesite
in the Bronx
where you
manage always
under
slanted light
to recreate the world
from within
the way a lighthouse
keeper folds
the moon
inside
his lamp.
Austin LaGrone
Born in Baton Rouge, Austin LaGrone is the author of Oyster Perpetual, winner of the 2010 Idaho Prize for Poetry (Lost Horse P, 2011) and Call Me When You Get To Rosie’s, winner of the 2016 Bitter Oleander Library Award for Poetry (The Bitter Oleander P, 2017) His work has appeared in Black Warrior Review, Crazyhorse, Gulf Coast, Poetry International and elsewhere. He holds degrees from St. John’s College and New York University and lives in Sweden.
