by Kira Schukar ’22
This month, the editors at The Words welcome Gabriel Fisch to Wordplay!
“Hi, I’m Gabriel Fisch (he/him) and I’m an English and Biology double major at Mac. In my poetry I like to think about family, religion, and the natural world. This particular poem was inspired by a steel art sale I visited last spring. In my free time I enjoy movement and spending time with those I love.”
Please enjoy Gabriel’s poem, Steel Art Sale.
Steel Art Sale
A sign on the side of the road read Steel
Art Sale Ahead. Placed just below the sign,
an arrow pointed to the right. I put
my blinker on. Adjacent to the sign,
a turkey, cut of black steel, and painted
abstractly, long brush strokes, once-bright colors
weathered down to dull greens and blues, like fog.
My father would have liked this craftsmanship.
Down the road another sign. I followed
them like this for twenty minutes until
I saw a black arch and hundreds of steel
creatures, painfully twisted and inlaid
with gems. A pair of loons, red stones for eyes,
looked me up and down, displeased and cautious.
I watched them too, at the foot of the driveway,
sizing up their jagged beaks and razor wings,
with my palms rotated slightly forward,
as if to offer them my sins. As if
to open my chest for them in this place.
A priest and his dog washed through the statues.
They paused by a darkly shaped mosquito.
The priest wore plain clothes. I overheard him
speaking low words to the bearded artist
about buying two of the sharp creatures
and hanging them around his parish.
Perhaps he thought they might ward off evil.
Or, perhaps he thought they needed saving.