After Laura Mullen’s Cituated, Sean Standish’s new poem Geese and Poles, and the poem “Neighbor” by Brandon Shimoda (remember, to read poems this one is after, just click their titles!!)
Where might she now? Drifting.
Inside her sensorium, the waterline’s sail-drenched inward swoop and scatter of will distanced and provincial
This part danger, part reason desperate.
Classically bridging into the assumption of anemic winters, women men longed for, men longed for women longing for women she is dreaming there, glassily, setting ahoy, ahail, below the aft side slipping silent below the glacier blueice slipping splinter into
Scythes scaling away fields out of reach of
Breath. As aquatic.
Dangerous parting of sleep. Here. Heal. Knee, or set strap over shoulders: only to part, only to make it
Firmly, mark her.
She is the lack of control, in release she is puppet stringlifted. Turn in on itself slowly. Gazed. Saying adieu meaning something hollow. Nightsweats pressed against lucid dreaming. Inert
White, star-speckled skin in the obsidian depths, beyond the unseeing predators, the rays, the gauzey curtain. If she could last out there, beyond that
delicacy of the return
Mouthing words in the silent sleep beyond the wall of outbound REM cycles. the weight of a body bending, rent, peared upon a moistened sail when, in an effort to say echo, to say oh, a gadget’s missing.
metal, the Aegean’s obelisk or
lead mirrors drowning, anchor-heavy, as stone.