A contemporary poem about the weight we lend, using a concrete image system, a pressured turn and a restrained open ending.
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You put your tiredness down beside me. I did not lift it; I made room. The floor took what we could not carry. Outside, the jacaranda shed its purple weight. For once, falling was not failure. It was how two bodies kept the evening from floating away.
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A thing without a practical name resists ownership and remains open to a less instrumental way of seeing.
A contemporary poem about the way the body misreads, using a concrete image system, a pressured turn and a restrained open ending.
A contemporary poem about two things stay down, using a concrete image system, a pressured turn and a restrained open ending.
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