Get this:
Chloe still likes Olivia
Chloe loves Olivia.
Chloe proposed to Olivia
right there
in the laboratory.
Chloe and Olivia
are getting married.
Everyone’s invited.
Come back, come back,
Virginia, just for this one day.
Day Poems
En Route
“Musicians and night-club proprietors lead complicated lives; it’s advisable to check in advance to confirm engagements.”
—The New Yorker
There’s a poem in there
somewhere if
I can just unbuckle
all the belts
wrapped around
our faulty limbs
and hearts. I think
of death and dying
to be born
when I read
exquisite poems. I do
die a little
when I read yours
is another way
of saying
there’s sex
going on
between those lines.
Evacuate
Pounding on a door
down the hall
to wake up. Then yours. Gas leak.
It’s cold outside
for May. But it’s May.
Neighbors pass
the wine bottle. You accept
the young woman’s blanket
to cover your legs. All clear.
Everyone can go
back inside. Try to sleep
for three hours. Give up. Watch
a solitary figure
walk through
a skyway overhead
on the way
to the train to the plane—
Minneapolis/Saint Paul to
Hartford/Springfield.
No funerals this time.
Thanks to The New Guard Review and The Writer’s Hotel for this opportunity
My poem “The Take No Heroes Hotel” is part of the “Unforeseen Poetry and Art” exhibition at Gallery One TractorWorks
A New Layer
Discovered in Earth’s mantle. What
would it take to leave
the troposphere
for the stratosphere
for the mesosphere? All the way
to the thermosphere. What
about the pauses between? What
do I really know
about my own epidermis,
dermis, hypodermis? What
if I discovered a hidden layer
in there? Would you come
looking for me there?
March
Looking past the ice
on the pond, she decides
facts get in the way.
She could fast forward
to spring
with the right attitude.
She’s more afraid of prose
poetry than formal verse
or 140-character chants.
She walks the perforated
line between
with a hot beverage
in her hand and shouts:
Be refreshed.
[Untitled]
I wrote a song
for you
that has no title
I wrote a title
for me
that has no poem
slightly surreal
could be a park after
dark don’t go
inside the theater
has been closed
longer than the lifespan
of most dolphins
or meerkats
ever so slightly
surreal could be a weather condition
like ice
what’s the difference
between freezing
rain and hail
between a swarm
of locusts and helicopters
or bees
rising up
to get their revenge
Cones and Rods
How many moons—no—
how many movies—no—
how many planetariums—no—wait—
how many drinks
does it take
to adjust to the dark?
Eyes open or shut.
Hermit Crab
The first adaptive
reusers before
it became trendy
to convert a shoe
box into,
well, anything
besides a shoe
box. A covered bridge
into an amphitheater
for Amish punk gigs. A Dairy
Queen into a library
that houses reels
of documentary films
and mysterious microfiche. Summer
mansion into convent into
venue for flying
garters and bouquets.
Do they still do that?
No vacancy
chain. Everyone’s hoteling
it now. Or, hot desking
without reservation.
Anything to protect the soft abdomen
from invaders.
Night & Day Poems of Amy Nash 