by McKenzie | May 2, 2012 | Blog, My Poems, Reading
“This is your captain: We are going down. We are all going down…together.” from Laurie Anderson’s “From the Air” LAST WINTER In the last few waking hours, you watch the world through unblinking eyes. People become impenetrable...
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,...
