a movement, diagonal
a color, green green glass, a curve
another substance sand
the gravel on the walkway again
mid-conversation, you turn your head
leaves on trailing vines climb walls surround
doorways fashioned before my grandmother
lived
not flowering, I cannot name it remind you
the time, a golden trumpet behind my
ear brugmansia
Angel’s trumpet, not golden, yes nightshade
walk the late afternoon sun down the lane
a yellow and red ball beneath the
hedge kick it, kick it
pretend there’s a win, a goal purpose
I pack my bag in the morning, walk outside
you come with the car
•
rich inner
experience what is real life
inner, outer, what’s the difference advertisements
clamor for attention, promise a better life
this one, this life walk on the river path
walk in the hills, walk or sit or lie anywhere
bird song in the afternoon light movement
of your hand
across your body, you reach
your sweater sleeve a flash of dark sun
sharpens the day, crisp, inlay into memory
a hand in mine, this warmth real life for this moment
tabletop, an orchid spray, purple and white
we discuss phalaenopsis, dendrobium mouth words
like desserts, rich chocolate, some bright lemon
later when I kiss you I think of your mouth shaping
words
as we make pleasure sounds wordless
•
someone said something
conversation
joy and celebration two tables
over
you drank tea in the afternoon
birthday suit pool
party
deep red ceramic cup, a chair you placed in the
sun
neurotoxins in pretty stemware, difference
between use and abuse walk through night
afterward, four blocks to the west pass the calla lilies
a poem pulled from pocket in the morning,
crumpled
crinkling smoothed, a moment, record captured
collaboration, entangled words unhidden
yet not quite revealed, secret languages
evolve words passed back and forth I
don’t know the end of this story confuse annual
and perennial not
patient, learn patience
•
regarding living, she said, it’s not going to get better
on its own you
have to do something to it
make your life happen out the
window
wooden frame, nine lights, leaded glass
slight distortions all the colors, all the shapes
airline ticket, hotel room borrowed suitcase
so much baggage on this potential trip
an investment in my future double
payoff
not without risk, not a gambler, nerves taut
walk past fringe flower, azalea, camellia
blurred by tears
to give permission to live autocorrect said love
which is not incorrect give, give—
sleep, wake, quiet room, too big bed
want to give it away, more give, trade for next
steps
wait for next steps hobbled no way to live
Poet and publisher Jill Stengel’s
work has been published in a dozen print and online chapbooks, most recently
wreath (Texfiles Press), as well as in the full-length collection Dear
Jack (Black Radish Books). Jill founded a+bend press in San Francisco in
1999, originally as part of a reading and publication series she ran, and she
has published more than 50 poetry titles, including work by some of our
country’s foremost experimental women writers. Jill continues to promote voices
of experimental women poets and publishers through collaborations, consulting,
and editing. Recent projects she’s been involved with include Dana Teen Lomax’s
The Beautiful: Poets Reimagine a Nation (Gualala Arts) and the
posthumous publication of Marthe Reed’s deposition | dispossession: Climate
Change in the Sundarbans (Kelsey Street Press). Jill Stengel lives in Davis, California.
the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan
