Morely
by Andrew Fitzsimons
As in: he’ll morely be sitting there,
the butt of a roll-up between index
and thumb, the makings of another
in his lap, for why wouldn’t the next
world be much like the one here?
As in: the crane this morning
alighting on the shed roof, morely
knew to expect the Sunday chicken-
scraps, the leg, the wings. Did he scry
into the kitchen window last evening?
More than likely? It must be, I suppose.
I’ve never heard another soul
utter this mind-made shortcut. His
and his alone. Now he’s gone, is that all?
Morely. This shatterable ves-
sel; the mini urn on the windowsill.
Andrew Fitzsimons was born in Ireland and has lived in Japan since 1998. He is a Professor in the Department of English Language and Cultures at Gakushuin University, Tokyo. His publications include The Sea of Disappointment: Thomas Kinsella’s Pursuit of the Real (Dublin: UCD Press, 2008) and Thomas Kinsella: Prose Occasions 1951-2006, ed. (Manchester: Carcanet, 2009). His poetry has appeared in Ireland, Britain, and the U.S.A., and he has also published translations of Italian poetry, including Eugenio Montale, Giuseppe Ungaretti and Andrea Zanzotto.