Jakob Ziguras

Jakob Zig­uras lives in the Blue Moun­tains, near Syd­ney. His poetry has been pub­lished in Mean­jin, Aus­tralian Poetry Jour­nal, Lit­er­a­ture and Aes­thet­ics, and Mea­sure: A Review of For­mal Poetry. He was short­listed for the New­cas­tle Poetry Prize in 2011 and 2012, and won the 2011 Harri Jones Memo­r­ial Prize. He holds a PhD in phi­los­o­phy from the Uni­ver­sity of Sydney.

 

 

Pyg­malion

Heifers with gilded horns no longer part before the axe,
in cel­e­bra­tion of the rites of Venus; these days no
myth­i­cal obstruc­tion dulls authen­tic pain, her hid­den
                                                                               face.

Art always seemed to offer per­ma­nence surer than
the fad­ing skin. But I am tired of scrap­ing at a rock
to find the girl within. Here in my gar­den, beside a pine
                                                                                  tree

skirted by shadow, a youth­ful form bur­geons in alabaster.
Caught in a state of grace, she grasps after the flu­ency
of air sur­round­ing her entombed appeal. A stray­ing
                                                                              breeze
 
whis­tles through her fluted curls. Beauty that can­not dance
or kiss. It scares me sud­denly, to see my need trans­formed
into this lis­som milk, com­pacted hard enough to grind the
                                                                                    seed
of dreams; hold­ing my life between her glow­ing thighs.