and boros, from bora, which in Greek means food,as in tail food, which is strange because usuallyfood is thought of as something other than self,but the larger you become, the more cosmosyou comprise, the less consumable othernessthere is, a shrinking slice of not-you, untilyou’re the whole thing, the world serpent, ouroboros, the yin and yang, the mouth of lightcoiled back into the darkness of your body,which you’ve always felt, guessed at, your mind nota discrete slice of consciousness splayed outon cosmic glass, but all of it, one bright cellinside of god and therefore all god, your nameimplying oneness, the word for tail, ouro
Justin Rigamonti teaches composition, creative writing, and publishing at Portland Community College in Portland, Oregon, while also serving as the program coordinator for the Carolyn Moore Writing Residency.…
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The American Poetry Review (Digital) - 1 Issue, July/August 2023