by McKenzie | Jul 11, 2012 | Blog, My Poems
It was on a night like this when I stopped trying to find you. Your body disappeared, and I was left in a sea of white linen and feather-down— the area around the bed and the main hallway like a thousand corridors. Antelope filled these halls, their eyes turning...
by McKenzie | May 2, 2012 | Blog
by McKenzie | Apr 23, 2012 | Blog, My Poems
I’m reworking “The Nightsky Often Looks Like a Mound of Feathers” and retitled the poem (I may re-use this title in a future poem). Here’s the result: A LETTER TO CALICO SKIN 1. Early on, you appeared like a curled robe on the side of a...
by McKenzie | Apr 23, 2012 | Blog, My Poems
You often says things in which I can say little in return—my growing deficiency—and the sky turns yellow. We lay a blanket in a field in the middle of nowhere and return to find it covered in earth that cannot grow. We lie in this space and stare into a sky filled...
by McKenzie | Apr 23, 2012 | Blog, My Poems
This is one of those poems that is not very good, needs a ton of editing but will not get out of my head. I imagine part of it will be useful, but for now, this is it, in its roughest form. THE NIGHTSKY OFTEN LOOKS LIKE A MOUND OF FEATHERS. 1. Ever since you were...
by McKenzie | Apr 23, 2012 | Blog, My Poems
Break open the branch. Inside– there is lime and tree foam. Like marrow. The white liquid that illuminates the skin, full of leaves and freshly-plucked strawberries. Like dawn, opening: he captures this about her in a painting, surrounds her with blood oranges,...
