Murder One, Fall 2015
The artist's space.
About the poem: These poems were written thanks to a wonderful workshop I took at the University of Arizona Poetry Center last November with poet Thomas Sayers Ellis. Ellis is a dynamic, energetic poet, and just listening to his lectures is an inspiring experience. In our workshop, he encouraged us to use our intuition and inner compass to guide us through the composition of our poems, and I think this shows in my work.
Crow Hollow 19
The Dark Factor
In the songs, he is only sometimes dead.
My hallows sing him back
for the anniversary
of our buried seed.
I feel the heaviness, the transcendent weight:
the portal of my chest opening.
He was a small morning; now a large night.
In the dark, I lay down my ocean
& wait for his long wind,
for the slingshot of my mind to crack.
I shadow the echo but there is no vacancy
for these qualms of fire.
I can’t bear my water &
the slang of my body renders me helpless.
The Good Fame
I am not soft & travelling. The snare of
this half sleep is as hard as a deer antler &
these quartered prayers are still stuttering towards me.
There is no good fame. The bulbs of my knees
light up in the dark now, & I am a hostage
of this new birthmark, these hauntings.
My mouth becomes a slot machine you feed with coins
peeled from your eyes. This is my breathing walk, &
these non-utterances are clumsy.
The wild enjambment of my body means
I will use this stone; God’s moon to worry it.