Tuesday, November 21, 2017

Tuesday poem #242 : Kate Siklosi : [ fig (iterative)

time holds the wake dearly.

syllables congeal
into smooth stamped clauses
to translate the weather of a face,
bite, nail.

the vagrant and executive
never change
but grammatical lines are traversed
like ions across a circuit maze

between the sun and lately
i fast on roses
to eat the me in meaning is
i n g

must you tie my hands
to your book
bury my river with your sands,
to come up for water.

for language is more difficult
than space
more fluid
than the body
yet transparent against
the ground of

Kate Siklosi lives, writes, and thinks in Toronto. She holds a PhD in English Literature but has defenestrated from the academic ivory tower in search of warmer climes. She is a writer by day and a poet by night. Her first chapbook – a collection of really neat letraset poems – is coming out with above/ground press this spring. She is the cofounding editor of Gap Riot Press and is currently working on a manuscript of experimental petro-poetry, Love Songs for Hibernia.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

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