Children are building cities
in the sand
All of them have rivers
They pull buckets of water from this lake
that is secretly a river, make rivulets
that satisfy their god complexes
I don’t like you! yells a girl
Read more "Beach on the Great Sacandaga Lake"
at a boy who has interfered
with her creation
We hover low over the river. His eyes are shining,
Read more "Christopher, After the Explorer"
wildfire breath coming in gasps. Wildebeests
stampede through the tall grass below us and I pray
to God everything works itself out, one way or another.
His hands are rough like mine and my father’s
before us. He’s fast undoing the knots and then
a dead weight falls away. When I look back
down, all I see are ripples across the surface
of the dark water, the disappearing backs of crocodiles.
Night air carries superstition, poison’s veil,
Read more "How Deceptive The Moon"
cry of hunting owl, unbound mastiff.
Deceit manages the moon.
Dire blaze of comets fall
whips at cries of disembodied voices,
chaos of sordid death by border lies.
My reflection is running water,
an impulse through exile’s grasping past
profound as sin and consecration.
Floating in inertia, admiring
ennui through its idling passage,
I cup my hands to my mouth, rising
in terror, singing for redemption.
Benzene blue his eyes and soul—
How slowly we fall.
An embrace of glassy green
On my skin again.
Dark blue, pinhole stars,
My body the midnight sky
Bending over his.
Hand on hand. Dreams slip
Read more "One Night on the Riverbed"
Into the underbelly
Of the universe.
My body the underside
Of a river at night, dark blue water
Strewn with a pinch of stars.
All is quiet now that I’ve lost
The will to fight. All I can conjure up
Is a lonesome silent fish, a gentle splash
Of gold on the face of the moon.
Then all falls backs into the soft,
Watery black. I’m on my back,
And my legs will not move.
All I can do is wait to be reborn.
Read more "Convalescent"
Above the east bank green rays beam from beyond The aquarelle of this dawn patiently emerges, brightening The fleeing the stars & indigo twilight Sand castles still guard this shore, surviving the higher wash of the night
Read more "Sunrise River (Río Uruguay)"
Ocean City I’m on a fifth-storyhotel balconyat the crack of dawn staring past a row of rental propertiestoward vast waters beyond, as I wonderwhat ghosts lieon the hungover streets below. What sort of jukebox jiveor inebriated highdid that last breeze carry through? It’s a mid-summer den,a damn hotbed,of debauchery and sin on this morning after […]
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Border Stones Even death is just a concept we put on the bare facts of things. Alluvium and sunlight, names for the annealing world, the dough that turns into bread. I forfeit opinions because I want the startled wings without the assumption of the bird. In the forest, I’m simply dazzled. My heart may hurt, […]
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Bones Where I am from, women have broken fingernails that dig in the dirt like badgers, looking for bones. Bones mean yes, a lovely spot for pansies. Plant two there. We scrub our hands before dinner. We get the dead dirt rubbed off our palms like it was bad, what we did in the garden. […]
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JuneLather that Place below the navelFingers treading waterTime transcending timeShe trails the oceanDrags it behind her Moves through it like glassCutting continents in halfI floss myself with her bonesshe sinks into me like poisonTeeth grinding teeth into ash Niamh Burns is a 23 year old queer writer from Alberta, Canada. Through their love of written […]
Read more "June"