Read the winning piece of our 2025 Nonfiction Contest “Through the Mirror” by Jessie Cato selected by Lucy Ives.

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Mar/Apr 2018 |

In the Garden of Intelligence

Lispector

Hen: animal I can
never understand—warm blooded
with no navel, inventor of the oval,
that shape that asks, Is the world
infinite?

~
Pizarnik

Hind quarters
half slunk, pacing

on the other side
of a name plate,

the wild dog
isn’t.

~
Hikmet

I didn’t know I loved bats—how they
hang by an ankle’s stem. One hobbles along
a branch on the bone hooks of its thumbs.
I love its dissident biology—
black, well-oiled eyes it can live without,
wings that are webbed hands. All fur
and foreskin, private as the little thing
between the legs, it preens. It fans.

~
Svevo

To every passing woman
the ass says, We’ve met.
Do you remember? You rode me
into Bethlehem.

~
Baldassari

Outback
her hair in his harelip
Australia was admitted
except for Elmore

~
Larkin

When carrion’s your business,
You piss on your hands

to sanitize them. Your
bald head you call

an exigence of cleanliness.
The condors lunch at 1:00.

 

Note
“I didn’t know I loved . . .” is borrowed from Nazim Hikmet’s poem “Things I Didn’t Know I Loved.” “[T]he little thing between the legs” comes from Hikmet’s “Trousers and Skirts in Our Time.” See Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk’s translation, Poems of Nazim Hikmet (Persea Books, 1994), and Saime Göksu and Edward Timms’s biography, Romatic Communist: The Life and Work of Nazim Hikmet (St. Martin’s Press, 1999).

Naomi Mulvihill
Naomi Mulvihill was a Poetry Fellow at the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown, MA, in 2014. Her poems have been published in the Green Mountains Review, CutBank, New Orleans Review, West Branch, and others, and featured on Verse Daily. She is a bilingual teacher in the Boston Public Schools.