I found a group
of hollowed-out opera singers
growing trees

inside themselves.
They were all wearing red flannel.
When I looked inside one,

there was a perfectly
functional ecosystem, some
birds, some fire.

When I looked inside another,
there was a smaller
opera singer, and inside him

was a lumberjack,
sharply dressed,
hollowing out a tree.

Excerpt from The Man Suit by Zachary Schomburg.

This is a small piece of one of my favorites from Mr. Schomburg. There are various chapters to this poem that meander around the theme of what he found in a forest. The poem jumps around other poems, popping up in later pages with new numbered dreams, sequences, and images so crisp they fall right out of the page like pick-up-stix!

I have never been on a trip as long as what Zach is experiencing right now, I bet it is an odd sensation. Perhaps when he gets back he’ll be done travelling for a while? Or is it just a really long walking dream full of faces and happenings?

More info about this series here.