Patty Nash

“The Right Eye,” Trinh Sari Nguyen


Upon arrival (heavy is the head) home
from run I knowing I ought to unlatch house keys
knotted somehow thru my shoelaced spooling—silly
me—dummy having done it—now I’ve done it—deep in-side
knot, down-in-shoe, all done-in-doors, fasten a safety
out of them—
now out in the elements
the naked elements of all: of them mean and blue
and the sock I’d fashioned over claw
turned to fidget and this fidgeting baying socked
didn’t even know what mean restraint nor how vain
trapped in a mitten no opposable
thumbs allowing it out freezing
(again, the elements)
and even the stretch of material would not give
and even that fidget itself would not let, sweating not its undoing
nor its unlearning, but the stuttering it occurred unable
to detach five fingers from form amorphous
and even that fidget would not let out who lays
claim to digital writhing gnash
somehow I figured diction into this scheme—and I gnawed
using my teeth—that did the trick
I could lick a cotton sock from
glove and use my joints in the blocked slipper
knob still too slippery—but a knock did it just fine
remembering even in the great sea or under its great cloak
of snow of slush, even my anger’s small, adorable.


Patty Nash is a poet, translator, and installation artist in the Midwest. Her work appears or is forthcoming in Juked, the Stockholm Review, Catch & Release, and Asymptote. She tweets at @pattynashdj.

Trinh Sari Nguyen is a Houston-based artist. See her full bio here.