Adam Gianforcaro is the author of the poetry collection Every Living Day (Thirty West, 2023). His poems can be found in The Offing, Poet Lore, Muzzle Magazine, Northwest Review, and elsewhere. He lives in Delaware.


June 26, 2024

Adam Gianforcaro

Room Capacity



The organism of crowd dances on its own, mimics the swift and swirl of ocean currents Imagine: bodies sixty percent of a substance so easily moved by the moon I don’t need a scientist to tell me how to drown As children, my sister practiced saving my life in our aboveground pool My sister is a flight nurse now and I still write poems from underwater Imagine: a basement floor sixty percent human sweat To suck back air that tastes like boiling vinegar Our clothes have sponged secretions enough to waterboard the hungriest black hole in the heavens There are a lot of people I miss and I miss them every day Bodies of water too much like human bodies A river is not the only thing that can carry me upstream I was stage left when we started and somehow end up all the way over here If I have learned to forgive anything, it is motion it is movement



Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published weekly by Glass Poetry Press.
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