Richard King Perkins II


Now leaves the light later,
dispels the sooner above.
You are still foregone citrus
sadder than before.
You are before the first moment.
You are nearer and nearer.
Less is the song we meant as softly.
Found is your flag of surrender.
Your disbelief is slowly lifting,
but lifting lesser.
The night is pentacles, pentacles
of rapture. Your freedom is perfect.
Along with devotion, you have whispers.
Along with separation, forever.
But beneath, a cloudbank heals petals
and the yellow grove of summer.


Here we will awaken
pulled upward like Natalie Wood
from the sea.

What should have been boffo
is all kelp and algae
drenched in Coke and Fanta.

The moon is temporarily given
an atmosphere on the sound stage
where we first landed.

Barely with voices, the thin sound
pulverized between us, the dust
of space, of performance hugs.

Author Portrait

Richard King Perkins II is a state-sponsored advocate for residents in long-term care facilities. He lives in Crystal Lake, IL, with his wife, Vickie, and daughter, Sage. He is a three-time Pushcart nominee and a Best of the Net nominee whose work has appeared in hundreds of publications including The Louisiana Review, Bluestem, Emrys Journal, Sierra Nevada Review, Roanoke Review, The Red Cedar Review, and The William and Mary Review. He has poems forthcoming in Sobotka Literary Magazine, The Alembic, Old Red Kimono and Milkfist. He was a recent finalist in The Rash Awards, Sharkpack Alchemy, Writer’s Digest and Bacopa Literary Review poetry contests.