Owl Job
​

In truth, these things are simple
they are human brains
or the tree's knot. It would be


unethical to let such an illusion
grow any further; I know
better than to allow anything


else to take shape. It is
not nice to assume space
I will


not look up I will not
notice the vibrant and feathered
distortions.


I know not what I've done
but what the owl's done
and how she glides


from a holy land
back and forth across
my childhood


but slowly as though
wading through hemoglobin
and dangling


consecrated charms
so close, too close
to my bowed skull


and the one wide eye
of night.  

​

Ebenezer Minelli is from Milwaukee. She studied poetry at Milwaukee's fine school of zoology and death. Her work has appeared in many exemplary journals such as Rosemary's Tweenage Daughter, The Almanac of Lizard Breeding and Dear Mary of the Fluorescent Feet. She plans to one day be nominated for a Puschart Prize but in the meantime is fine with trading poems about owls with her half-human, bewitched cat named Low Carb. They are planning a trip to Paris in the fall.