a field of birds-- / black wings breaking a sure hunk of sky / into a thousand parts (3)
only muscle scars where the fruit once hinged (5)
When he hit the water, / his backbones tangled like water root. (28)
I hold on / to a small tangerine, I unwrap the orange collars (29)
glassy nap (34)
the moon orphans all those stars (40)
the sea is / a white forest of lungs (45)
the engagement of gliding tendons / the elbow holding its soft cup // of veins (52)
More: Perugia Press | How a Poem Happens
PS: Nancy K Pearson's biography boasts that she is "originally from Chattanooga, Tennessee." So am I. ♡ I originally discovered Pearson's book when I considered signing up for a 24Pearl Street class on the personal in poetry, but I missed the boat on applying. Perhaps I'll get a chance again in the future; I really loved this book and would love to work with the poet, particularly on this topic.
1 comment:
Thanks, Molly.
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