John Paul Martinez is a Filipino-Canadian poet writing out of the Midwest. He was selected as a semifinalist for the 2019 Djanikian Scholars Program and a finalist for the 2018 Black Warrior Review Poetry Contest. His poetry has been nominated for Best of the Net and is forthcoming or has appeared in DIALOGIST, Redivider, wildness, Nashville Review, Figure 1, and elsewhere. He holds a BA in Linguistics from the University of Wisconsin—Madison.
in the corners
of nowhere Wisconsin
great white obelisks
of perpetual motion
stand in line to capture
the precious air
it’s the only place
where the cattle
dwarf the farmer
towering examples
of modern technology
dependent on a singular purpose
spin, spin, spin, spin,
and sometimes rest
in the center
of Wisconsin’s capital
I write poems
and sleep little
remain ranked outside
to test each breath
watching my night stretch
longer than a wind blade
I store my heart
in a thick nacelle
and pray towards the pulling moon
seeking my gentlest wind shear
chasing every available jet stream
to get me off the ground and running
I learn how to make waves in the sky
without the world’s notice
This poem is part of a series of self-portraits in which each is represented by a quiet subject: something that resides exclusively in the background and disturbs minimally, noticed only at a person’s choosing. The first half of this poem was written after driving through a small wind farm interspersed throughout a few acres of farmland near the Wisconsin/Iowa State Line; I was drawn by the scene of field crops loomed with a dozen or so turbines. The second half was written during a particularly sleepless period.