Eric Schmaltz is a third year undergraduate student at Brock University in St. Catharines, Ontario. There he is studying the English Language and the Liberal Arts.
eyes lean against exhausted houses of light.
inside, the mathematician and painter resume their struggle.
white mutates into minatory disguises,
crumbling faces emerge from the curtains.
a metaphysical tearing at the nerves:
[never sleeping giant]
with cultivation the solitary giant eats
feral motions that are his and his not;
these little labours maintain him.
have pity for this merciless creature, he has no death.
even at the end of flesh there is no rest.
nothing inside him that he may call his own.
I found a house on the top of a dandelion; I’ve made it my own.
in the afternoons I take long walks.
its skin blisters beneath the insincerity of my foot.
in this there is some guilt and some satisfaction.
[the given estate]
between trunks I walked with day and saw
horses pitching covers on drilling eyes. I sang:
‘holler and tumble beasts; I am long retreat.
I soullessly laid shores criss-crossing through the killed.
in heads, I’ve led dead around the sun,
buried the revived indigo avatar into my body.
at the warmest part of day, I endure.’