The Dottedness/His Ending
i saw the pause
in his cornea,
to distribute the right fact
to your audience. you breathe
through, spindle
the throat’s wire,
release the tongue spark.
oh my pretty fractal,
bifurcated,
tight
rabbit’s heart
bleating slice slit
slice slit ice lit
count the unleashed dogs
pissing in
the car.
i see light tilt
from them.
gripping circles, stop.
with so many unanswerables,
headlights float
like eyes in the woods
like them like them.
Technique is Darkness
1)
you made my eyes
(like fancy words
dustlike, prismatic, pinion,
float like objects
without bodies
and their desired pictures)
without context: sterile.
2)
this is a trick: death’s daughter
pulls up her blue petticoat,
attempts to escape
consciousness,
that bloated surface.
how can you solve it?
so many soft, stuffed
animals smiling in her path.
3)
medical science
pumps through her veins, but
i know a problem
is just love needing
some warm privacy.
Broken Stimuli #3
engineered the oak wood’s
heavy disguise
she’s impatient, really,
the forest painted a story
of a tragic slut
grabbed, yeah, they said
mayflies floated inside
the church’s yellow dome
unliving knots, the story
i’m trying to tell is
yes, maybe she didn’t
know. distressed
the neighbors saw
you cute
when you pray
get up, fall down.
Emelia Reuterfors grew up in the Missouri Ozarks and received her MFA from the University of Arizona. Emelia currently case manages homeless veterans in the Ozarks and collects the black cats in her neighborhood. Individually, she can be found @emroodoo.