when people laugh at a word like soul

BY Jason baltazar

this cypress, 
—my six year
—swaying neighbor,
—-doesn’t know our inventions
—for its genus 
—or clade,
but the root graze
—of the cypress beside it
—-names both.

—–this neighbor
—-never proselytizes
—dreamt up theologies, 
only pulls the fallen sky 
—into its knees,
—swishes shaggy fringe 
—-in this prairie’s 
—ceaseless exhalation;

—only reaches, 
each day 
—infinitesimally nearer,
—to potencies 
—-feeding limbs 
—the dizzy warm splendor 
of growth— 

and words
—will sometimes
—live on tongues 
—-not as names but gestures,
—hopeful recognitions
—that we carry 
similar potential.


Jason Baltazar is a proud Salvadoran American originally from the Appalachian corner of Maryland. He is currently finishing a PhD focused on speculative fiction and postcolonial studies. His work has or will appear in Boston Review, Wrongdoing Magazine, Occulum, and other venues. For more info, check out his website: http://www.jasonbaltazar.com

Image Credit: “Spring Snow” by Guliz Mutlu