Monday, November 1, 2010

Amber Nelson

Poem 18

we heft our sails
their pearls
like fingers from fists

remember how to breathe
in quiet

Poem 22

These guts are rust-
ridden & ladeled
on the table
for display. Touch

the small intestine.
Then taste your fingers.

Broken & metalled

to steel against
the coming, the burning
the fallout.

Poem 25

listen to
the quiet

trickle of

into night's
empty room

Poem 27

Try this ride along the highway
in turn stasis ate the bank
and flow tings the pave I meant
to wide sail eat cherries sea,
each wary see these breezy
yesses. Say yes. Seance. Save us.

The wheels will wile us
into heaven. Your will wilts
wildly in two havens.

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