Ignatius Valentine Aloysius | 3 Poems

Ignatius Valentine Aloysius | 3 Poems


We look out through windows. We have our

clear windows & want more windows to look through.

A spotted green gecko waits for a live meal

on the painted side wall. Three deer step up to

the edge of the thicket then retreat. The park

is a playground for freed dogs & toddlers un-

winding from sleep or boredom. The office desk

stands empty for weeks in the building across

the street. Roll up the windows because the rain

falls now in sheets as we drive, when just

yesterday, fall leaves left their branches & kissed

ground snow. A great rumble surrounds me. Beyond

this vast desert are lush hills singing for peace,

asking if I see them through the blue bowled sky.

Even the Raindrop

~from an Instagram post

If it’s true that the spirits of the dead walk

about unseen among us, then do they touch

the plants I water, the road signs I read, my

dead mother’s photograph on the wall?

Do they lift that butterfly into the air

and breathe into my coffee cup as I sip?

Somewhere, the pulse of a drumbeat winds

through the idyll cold outside, while I try to

keep warm in layered clothes, look out past

the smeary window glass & see the winded

pine hold a nestled nest in place, wet romance

in tilted rain. The spirits stand between us,

love, even the raindrop watches, it watches,

the writer thinks, our rituals richer than food.


I meditate too, but not that way with breath

and body’s back whisked up like mountain’s form,

or kneaded dough hungering for new life in

fire’s hot lap, returning to silent fates.

I meditate too, but not like ashes peaked

with bated breath, before reaching winds come

lifting their gauze through the trees. Take the

case of each word that’s worth meditating on—

there’s its form, how it’s made, how it clicks

and slips between lines on a page, its meaning,

as an island or far mountain of wanderings

gifting good rain or burning pangs. I meditate on

words and wanderings, mother’s two strokes throwing

her head-first to the floor. I couldn’t save her.

Ignatius Valentine Aloysius earned his MFA in Creative Writing from Northwestern University. He is a lecturer in writing, a designer, and musician, and author of the novel Fishhead. Republic of Want (Tortoise Books, 2020) and The Imaginal Stage, a doom/sludge metal album by WOOND, his studio project on Mental Illness Recordings, Iowa City. Ignatius was selected as a 2020-21 Creative Writing Fellow  by the Ludington Writers Board and the Ludington Area Center for the Arts in Michigan. He serves as a judge for the Evanston Arts Council’s 2020-21 Cultural Fund Grants Applications, and is on the curatorial board at Ragdale Foundation. Ignatius was a featured July 2020 author for Ragdale’s By-and-for-Artists Series. He is also co-curator of Sunday Salon Chicago, a bi-monthly literary reading event series in Chicago. Ignatius lives with his wife in Evanston, IL and is currently at work on his next novel and album. Visit him at woond.bandcamp.com, or on social media.

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