 Photo art by Reka Jellema. Copyright April 2015. ceiling -- I have known
your open eye the slope of white descend and blind, the slap of your gloss surface, felt it press on my illness levitate above my fixed sight, the top of a box the ways we bled a glass of lucid another glass and then the end will this be one of those nights operatic in my head the lamp-lit sun speeding round the catatonic fixed just little trickles between the stitches the round burns and this -- understudy to the abyss your watery wink O death the depth, the anchor sinks beneath the weight of wave heaviness oceanic, I get lost when I go under the wreck the wrack of self a magnitude that sharks plow through uneaten to the surface, nibbling the edges of the unconscious all along I hid within an upper floor within a room a single bed cheese squares in the fridge a cup of pills a man in scrubs a host of diagnoses dressed in paper gowns, this is where I live By Reka Jellema & Jennifer Savage Copyright April 24, 2015  Photography by Reka Jellema. Copyright April 2015. The First Rain
Was it the first rain, hard hitting rain battering our green slicking the sycamores puddling our drives drowning the earthworms melting the last of the dingy snow Was it the sound of violets bursting from the dirt, tiny wrinkled faces like blue babies newly born that woke the birds, aroused their coughs and barks at once and for the evening urgently the thrush, the gull, goldfinch and bluebird, jays and grackles crow assaulted our ears cacophony or symphonic we could not distinguish dissonance from harmony could not help but hear a garbage truck crushing glass bottles into dust at the chorus |
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