For more information, check out the A-List listing in this week’s City Pages.
Day Poems
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.
2014 in review
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 2,700 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 45 trips to carry that many people.
Will Portage
Untamed or unnamed, the tilt is in
her head—and a lock shuts
down forever to stop
the spread of invasive
species up
river. Forever is
a long time to fight the ambitions
of fish. She’ll find the way
to unburden her own.
Made of Wood
Now I want to tell you something
about what? I don’t know
how to speak in tongues. I try
to be honest. But the color
blue comes out first. What the hell
ain’t it about? Everything
worshipped—including stuffed monkeys—
leads to silence or ink drawings of stolen crutches.
The Last Daffodil, Or How to Become Famous Inside the Take No Heroes Hotel
The window
seat is the aisle
seat. It’s too damn small. Claustrophobia
can be triggered
at any moment. Am I
the only one
who heard you
expose that moment
a young woman jumps
off
a moving
merry-go-round
to change her life? An island known
for brass rings. But now it’s the back
of a larger jet, not
a bus. And the word
turbulence is a curse. Gravel
roads and potholes
in the sky over
Ohio and Wisconsin. No,
it must be the Great
Lakes. Each
and every one. And rivers
that flow too slowly
or not at all. You belted out
the question:
“Is it Mine?” There was nothing
there to be yours
yet. When there was,
you didn’t want it.
(Did I?) And then
it was gone. Name it. Go
ahead. Name.
It. I
dare you. And
I will not offer
suggestions. And
once named, you can
forget it—me. Yeah,
thought so. Descending
over the Mississippi, a landing
so smooth.
Night & Day Poems of Amy Nash 