Allan Pero’s poetry is provoked by astronomy, nature, and death, among other things. He is influenced by French symbolists including Stéphane Mallarmé and Paul Valéry, modernists such as Wallace Stevens, Mina Loy, and Paul Celan, and contemporary Canadian poets like Anne Carson. Allan is currently editing his first volume of poems.



You can see a number of Allan’s poems on the blog. Here is a new poem about the death of Wyndham Lewis. As you may know, Wyndham Lewis (1882-1957) was a writer and painter, who developed a tumour in his head. Although it was not the cause of death, the tumour did produce several problems as he aged, among them, blindness. Post-mortem (obviously), his brain was removed and kept in a jar. Apparently, it has disappeared from its resting place.



Specimen FA 1008


Skulls have windows.
No door.
The only way out is blindness.
The pineal eye weighs upon your binoculars—
its scales thicken, insisting against brain and bone,
and your third eye is caught in its cross-hairs.
The floor of the mind is tiled with busy treachery,
and the swell floods each temple, left, then right,
casting a sea-mist over the eyes.
The head must duck and weave,
seizing the red emptiness of dead light.
Your flesh becomes waxen, amphibian, hairless;
you talk your books to their finish, even as the growing passenger
pulls you into bouts of unwanted sleep.
Aggressive voltage keeps the night at bay. For a while.
Until the heart assaults the ribcage,
its chambers a tumid echo
of the thinking disaster.
The body, too narrow for air,
gathers its tide in the lungs,
and the ego, no longer its own,
finds its enemy in the stars.