Matthew Minicucci

Text: One hundred and sixty-five wingbeats from a ruby-throated hummingbird. Nearly six / hundred from that same hummingbird in front of a perched female. Two hundred / and seventy from a ladybug, or thirty less from a monarch butterfly. / Only fifteen from a swallowtail butterfly, loping when compared / to other insects, but it …

There was a moment I realized prayeris just a conversation with who you’d rather be.In this same way, confession builds a narrative in what should be a poem. But whoam I to judge? Who am I to hold your cheek, that jawbone, in a waythat resembles justice or war, because they follow in sequence like …