Jo Ann Clark

We riddle the resident astronomists

with questions riding the intonation con-
tours of fact, tracing a meteor’s arc. Where-
as our declaratives blackhole common know-
ledge, leave us totalizing pathways of some
engine of search: Do owls sing? Synonym
for cistern? Weir? What are symptoms of—?
In what universe musicians of spheres? By now
we’ve been auto-corrected into a collective
unconscious wisdom. A same difference.
By now we’ve availed ourselves of the eco-
acoustic archives—heard scream and whistle.
Growl. Screech and shriek. Hoots, of course.
By now we’ve arrived from where one hears
such sounds and hears singing. Where one knows
if dawn’s first stroke misses the two hearts
in a last couple dancing. Or if it stops them.

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Translator, essayist and poet Jo Ann Clark is author of the collection 1001 Facts of Prehistoric Life (Black Lawrence Press, 2015). Her writing has appeared in The New RepublicParis ReviewBoston ReviewPrairie Schooner and elsewhere. A native Alabaman who grew up foremost in Alaska and Maine, she is also a teacher and non-profit administer whose international career has taken her to Italy, China and Hong Kong. She lives in the Hudson River valley.