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Valerie Witte :: Five poems

 

4. Are you so sure we can move freely in space : somewhere behind me, on the periphery, at the bar : while M’s work is read, by others as it forever will be : they were tucked in, recessed : was it fear : what a thought : I forgot I’d write about them : not too much : the emcee said to read any length of time, drink this : what cost tribute : I met her partner, I thought it was her partner : I’d seen images on her wall many times : many seemed to involve homemade pie : how context expands dimensionality, but the room was small : shut down now, two years later, another victim : outside D mentioned them while catching a car : I am not one to ask, I said : then told her : they fade into the background, shadow cast on a surface, a body intercepting light :

7. It’s a mistake to do things too easily : two days after, we collectively resorted to some form of normal, posts about dinner, cats : but her final messages continued surfacing : pictures of leaves ask to be identified : then dead again : I mean, still : lava lake rising, overflowed the crater floor : had a stroke then suddenly : “When I eat bread, I feel really sad” : eating pizza on an island made me miss the city more : I didn’t write much but M was : ruptured, just days ago in Hawaii, I saw pictures : then the volcano : boiled away, water : what’s the name of that museum in the hills : I began to collapse things : I didn’t know what happened : while magma drained away, underground to the middle, a series of earthquakes :

12. The night came like a turning of the lamp, and in another moment came tomorrow : a year ago in my childhood bedroom, nightly binged episodes of Crazy Ex Girlfriend : driven to devise a mechanism for distraction : to manage what drove us to doom: an introduction : or a modern minstrel show when they were too tired to dance : now my stomach just hurts every night : when I was unable to find my terminal, ran out of the airport and had to Lyft home : then woke because like death, can’t miss your flight : dreaming :

23. For after the battle comes quiet : people who have experienced extreme weather events can’t practice projection : “Can you believe one body had so many guns on it” : don’t shoot the storm, I cried : because it was here, well, in Florida, downgraded : and another one coming : G and V or was it K and F : what happens when we run out of names : almost everything was dead but three plants bloomed : mint and I don’t remember the other two : the hurricane’s path now wider than the state itself : meanwhile I flew back into smoke, smell of ash permeating flight : but this was another season, when we could still fly :

33. But we forgot that planets must ultimately fall back one by one into the parent body : someone carried bags of glass bottles : how much can we take in, take on : I scanned diaries for exploding stars : small pinpricks of light require less bandwidth : another form of escapism : a mystery minus the murder, hoodies : but there’s always a monster, as they put it : was this a test, a trial played out online across media : screenshots weaponized : what they hoped to reveal : was this bragging : cruelty is not a literary experiment : to displace by floating, submerging another : mother body : then pretend to own it : I feigned fault while they extracted words to repurpose : to be clear, could be clever : the lengths we’ll go for a supernova :

 

Valerie Witte is the author of a game of correspondence (Black Radish, 2015) and The Grass Is Greener When the Sun Is Yellow (Operating System, 2019), co-written with Sarah Rosenthal. Chapbooks include The history of mining (g.e. collective/Poetry Flash, 2013) and It’s been a long time since I’ve dreamt of someone (Dancing Girl Press, 2018). Her work has appeared in literary journals such as VOLT, Diagram, Dusie, Alice Blue, Interim, and elsewhere. She has attended residencies through The Hambidge Center, Ragdale Foundation, and La Porte Peinte in Noyers, France. She is a founding member of the Bay Area Correspondence School.

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submissions :: where is the river

Up to six poems in a single .doc file with author biography and photo to kieferjdlogan@gmail.com All rights revert to the author/s upon publication.

issue twenty-seven :: January/February 2022

  Christopher Patton :: Glitch Apple Howie Good :: Three poems Kenneth M Cale :: Three visual poems Christian Ward :: Three poems Matthew Walsh :: POACHED EGGS Jeremy Scott :: Five poems

about :: where is the river

where is the river :: a poetry experiment is a bi-monthly poetry journal open to a variety of aesthetics, forms and experiences, with a preference towards showcasing work by emerging writers. There is no single path, nor any single way. Founded in September 2017. Edited by Kiefer JD Logan.