Arsenic Lobster
poetry journal |
Issue Twenty-five Spring 2011 |
a cobbler of complex tastes Jessica Dyer Jupiter. oh, happy king of lightening; ask for mere belief & seek: blue. it is the color of sky and perfect sea, it is the color of the movement from teeth: they are inside us, all clanking together, and asking for crays. wood and air and stone: how we know you’re real, how we know existence. December son, born of a rock. bull’s blood on my Mithraic sweater, inside hiding dead wasps. you bite and build, you stop and stay, hover. you unzip our skins tomatoes/potatoes. salt. stir or bake. throw a black stone in the pot; it makes a good base. tambourine— rattling in me, circles upon circles upon circumferences, like tiny belts on rib bones, oil and bread. dip into me as though diving into the river smudged. there are tangles in my veins & there are tingles in my lines, all lost. there are darks and there is the dark there we swim untoward, flailing. |
About Jessica Dyer |