Journal
Cx72 Poetry: Jen Fisher
May 25, 2019
nocturnal
introverse tomorrow
katherine asked it 5 times
who it was
and it never answered –
i stared at it for a week –
its black dust dusted
back staring at me
a field pulled magnetic
love loving the magnetic pull
out/i wish/i could/i live forever
but "tired of myself"
she says to the camera –
i thought this morning
i had it all
then in the water filled tub
i felt like nothing
the dust dances like caterpillar
soundscapes sounding them
in unison to motion
i stop motion film
i stop motion film
i stop motion film
them stop motion
never
can i sleep
when i am tired
rising marsh
i am too tired in my tired i move
palms outstretched to
anchored weight he moves
my body. my position against the earth
flatiron let the sun scrape unjointed
rejointed reflect all my skin
my rituals my death –
a blue transfer a cyanotype in my breast pocket
i'm so poor in what i need to
house me – tearing words in books
hungry i feed him all i am to live us alive
to make us here now
warm now
the earth of us
sweat styles beading back bodies
bow down!
we pray hands twisting fingers
to sky opens
fire lit we close our eyes
the force field fielding us forward