Anastasia Hager

If there was fear in the heart it dissipated upon faithful interjection of a golden egg.

Delicato walked out aware of impending winter-month darkness encroach,
a quality he examined as a small boy from the position of his mother to others, when the mother
stooped, suddenly shuttered,

from aglow to trench

collected lifeless limbs for sake of resurrection that has yet to occur.

"If only to raise the trench as soon as it happens," he thought, "Or there is virtue in collections of
the dead?

Delicato will not end".


Delicato walked out believing he was morning of condensation, collapsing space, felt vectors
tangentially accelerate core-ward.

Seven arrows are seven sorrows are seven continents' mass implosion of this center.

How much weight will you sustain? Can you then lift what you hold?

Walking out steps in mud.


"My other form is of essence to destroy what I make," he externalizes process to anchor and make

as way of distinguishment, split // in the name of fear, or inability to embrace horizons he
opened, leapt upon when he was unafraid:

at once everywhere in spherical projection, anchored beyond Milky Way, for he had already seen that stars
close within visibility swept out only sufficiently for him to lift his head from fetal position, primordial
shrimp pose.


Delicato walked out into static haze whose contents appeared as opaque,
Humid-whiteout where meaning of the moment hid in all but faith that meaning was indeed

Fear was all exterior to himself. He counteracted it, him.

For it was only that which he was, and he held it tenderly because it was all.


On foot, holding

Tremble of new-shoot muscular growth, Delicato frees sight-path to see

a thing glimmering through organic decomp.


Finds an egg holier than cross.

Anastasia Hager is a poet and visual artist from Madison, Wisconsin. She returned to her hometown in the past year after living the greater part of the last decade in Madrid, Spain and Vancouver, BC. Though her innate curiosities have led her in many directions, she has always been and continues to be enthralled by language concerns, ontological, theological and anti-theological relations. She has another poem forthcoming in the Fall/Winter issue of Salt River Review.