Of a confined gleam— to hereby dissolve and hold for naught
the soil / gravel / silt groaning as the tools of our penultimate glacier,
a glacier I might pronounce like grief.
One does wish for words to thaw in the mouth, but find instead a tongue,
welt. Erosional or depositional, raised & visible, rift into language & grit—
— Joan Naviyuk Kane, from “Nunataq,” published in Poem-a-Day










