[vc_row row_height_percent=”50″ override_padding=”yes” h_padding=”2″ top_padding=”3″ bottom_padding=”3″ back_image=”56863″ back_position=”center top” overlay_alpha=”0″ gutter_size=”3″ shift_y=”0″][vc_column column_width_percent=”100″ position_vertical=”bottom” style=”dark” overlay_alpha=”50″ gutter_size=”3″ medium_width=”0″ shift_x=”0″ shift_y=”0″ zoom_width=”0″ zoom_height=”0″ width=”1/1″][vc_custom_heading heading_semantic=”h1″ text_size=”fontsize-338686″ text_height=”fontheight-179065″ text_space=”fontspace-111509″ text_font=”font-762333″ text_weight=”700″ text_color=”color-xsdn” sub_reduced=”yes” subheading=”by Will Camponovo”]Los Angeles Shoals[/vc_custom_heading][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_empty_space empty_h=”2″][vc_column_text]Aurora. Cockrow. Day-peep.
Rifles whirligig down the line.
Each nozzle endows the next.
The centrifugal hands of the cadets
Harmonize. Like dressage.
To think of weaponry as dressage.
Motion associates involuntarily.
Also, light. To simply say:
Morning did warm things with light
And their guns, indistinguishing
The piaffe. Similar discipline.
A man scrapes barnacles
From the Newport Beach pier.
Early. So no one’s watching.
The line divides delicacy
And demean. To mean
This as a part of speech: the verb.
The long stretch of morning where
Man begs the piers to give
At risk of probing, buffaloed eyes.
At home, safe as the long-remembered
Delicacy they are. Before day, grace.
Clumsy owns the light. And how.
So long owns the land. And now.
[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column column_width_percent=”100″ align_horizontal=”align_center” overlay_alpha=”50″ gutter_size=”3″ medium_width=”0″ mobile_width=”0″ shift_x=”0″ shift_y=”0″ z_index=”0″ width=”1/1″][vc_empty_space][vc_separator sep_color=”color-184322″ el_width=”30%”][vc_empty_space][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column column_width_percent=”100″ align_horizontal=”align_right” overlay_alpha=”50″ gutter_size=”3″ medium_width=”0″ mobile_width=”0″ shift_x=”0″ shift_y=”0″ z_index=”0″ width=”1/3″][vc_single_image media=”57546″ media_width_percent=”100″][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/3″][vc_column_text]Will Camponovo studied poetry at The Johns Hopkins University and the University of Washington and has contributed poems to Iron Horse Literary Review, The Seattle Review, and Best New Poets 2011. He lives in and works for the city of Los Angeles.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/3″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
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