by McKenzie | Mar 19, 2011 | Blog, My Poems
I slept in a shape that suggested sitting as though sitting in a chair all day were not enough. You sleep in this chair, too, dreaming of reflected hen houses and sheep that count backwards, dreaming on their heads in a way that suggests cow-tipping cannot take...
by McKenzie | Mar 19, 2011 | Blog, My Poems
You used to ask me where I left your glass of red wine. I could have told you the glass was on the side table but instead I told you – Wedding rings become inverted – Spider webs attach themselves to those corners as continued vacancies – Then the fields came to...
by McKenzie | Mar 19, 2011 | Blog, My Poems
I know enough to say that I have lived twenty-two times on the eve of my funeral. My lack of pregnancy is what keeps me smaller – the clothes which used to be loose have become transparent with leaves, a globe of birds in the ocean cornering what is left of waves –...
by McKenzie | Mar 11, 2011 | Blog, My Poems
1. The field was open like the mouth of a sparrow inside where there are winding halls You vanish into a brand of forget-me-nots and pollen 2. I spent that morning knowing that this was the one I couldn’t accept – inside the pages was a swan still breaking from its...
by McKenzie | Mar 3, 2011 | Blog, My Poems
My body existential Your hair an uprising of thorns When wind is nothing more than broken tumbleweed the crows stitching the air sewing up the holes in the Ozone layer Your mind is separate Your leaves are burning a house of mirrors that face the earth and deepen your...
