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Sunday, April 29, 2018

Nesting Figure

We looned    in the hots      as quickly as      we returned      to turning in early     to the shrinking bed        flanked by books     drying out their feathers            the window     wide open         as a concession     to some far     flung shore            I cannot think          as I used to think    --       I think I am repeating    a karmic loop    was the first    epoch of motherhood        not lost at sea exactly        but     (buoyed by)        the lost sea        our structures have no ability to see           even the look of I    so erect          so    monumental slash precarious    not at all like a manatee    soft     pillowy    sentience of    the sea -- no one will mistakenly scream    TIMBER      when a sea cow enters       the scene        I will  stay here    with the blue matrioshka         and taste    the emptiness of fruit flavors        while my body        grow gills    bursts      and oozes     suckles    and coos and sprays and coos and cries and cries in echolocation   

2 comments:

Radish King said...

This morning I watched an eagle in a madrona stretch its wings out to dry them then I came back here and read this yes your poems zeroing into my brain and my heart.
Rebecca

elisabeth workman said...

<3 thank you for echolocating me, dear poet <3