Upgrade to paid to play voiceover

Like Leda’s Hips
The swan, like Leda’s hips,
isn’t interested in geometry.
In soft black chalk, the swan
is all curves, reaching back
toward Leda’s torso, open
beak, bending his S-shaped
neck toward the true tree
of knowledge. Leda, full
of grace, turns away without
violence, without weapons,
without geometry, until she
and the swan are trapezoids,
purely man-made shapes
found nowhere in nature.
And then they disappear.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to The First Person with Michael Judge to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.