POETRY

At Shinglekill Creek

By

(for Catherine, my daughter)

Like water, here, in a standing wave,
the marriage of a forward surging force
and some impediment (a limestone laved
for years and years, down in and up against
what it can and cannot modify),
a brief inflection only, in the sphere
of all that might be said when water rides
the wave it makes, its involution there
under the backwash, white, a falling back
upon itself, the water in the trough
still craving the endearments of a curve,
the up-and-over held against a rock
on which a voice quickens that cannot have,
but does, no rule or sense of what's enough.

        From Techne's Clearinghouse (Zoo Press, 2004)

John Foy’s first book is Techne’s Clearinghouse (Zoo Press, 2004).  His poems have appeared in the Swallow Anthology of New American Poets (Ohio University Press, 2009), Poetry, The New Yorker, The New Criterion, Parnassus, Cimarron Review, The Raintown Review, Barrow Street, Think, and other journals, and on line at Poetry Daily, Nervous Breakdown, Umbrella, linebreak, and Big City Lit.  He works as a senior financial editor at Itaú BBA Securities.  He lives in New York with his wife, son, and daughter.

Like water, here, in a standing wave,
the marriage of a forward surging force
and some impediment (a limestone laved
for years and years, down in and up against
what it can and cannot modify),