Poet of the Month: “sign of the cross” by Aleksander Zywicki

In the name of the forehead
& of the sternum & of the left
& right shoulders, respectively;


& sometimes improvised
with lips at the end & a pinch 
of nothing held to the sky;


& sometimes mirrored,
the Shape drawn in plumes
of smoke & ceremony;


& sometimes twitched 
over & again, a compulsion 
to ward off tragedy.


“Dialing god,” they called 
it when they taught me—
“crossing yourself,”


as though upon a tightrope
strung between 
the common tongue


& prayer, we walk; 
to “bless”—the body
as with a spell,


an alchemy not 
otherwise afforded 
to such ordinary hands. 


Whatever it is called,
it is always Easter 
in the picture where


my dead father has risen
his arm to flesh in gesture 
the wrenching Christ 


above our table &
my eyes like wounds
are always opened 


as if with dreadful secrecy 
I had witnessed blood 
dripping into the food.

Aleksander Zywicki is a first-year MFA candidate at The New School. He teaches AP English Literature in Bayonne, New Jersey. He lives & writes in Jersey City.