Self-Portrait as the Last Man Skiing at What Was Once the Highest Ski Resort in the World
After Ruth Padel
It went by many names—
cold road, bridge of winds, Chacaltaya
and on the final run
before the last piece of ice disappeared
as I skim down clouds
already cracked like clay,
I think about how all the water on earth
arrived in comets and asteroids
and for a moment I am a paper clip
floating on surface tension,
the liquid droplets of my shape
changing with each turn
pulling blood up narrow vessels
like a dowsing rod.
Against the force of gravity
my binders break
the bluebird sky is hurled,
the glacial slope trimmed
from neckline to waist
like a bodice laddered with loose teeth
and all at once
I am declared dead,
no longer thick enough
to move.
Damon Hubbs is a gardener, casual birder, lapsed tennis player, and author of the chapbook Coin Doors & Empires (Alien Buddha Press). His most recent work appears/is forthcoming in DarkWinter Lit, Acropolis Journal, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Apocalypse Confidential, Dreich, Cutbow Quarterly and elsewhere. He can be found on Twitter @damon_hubbs.
The Marbled Sigh 