VI | Karolinn Fiscaletti

If you are going to the shower bring the present

You still never rest and still too long
You pass through the eye

You hear a great deal about work like everyone in the meantime is not desperately
        on land

You are nothing but the letter which gave you pain the short infirmity in which
You   a fish   came back        in the dream    for short visits

You know

You know the hot sun the eye of the day the smooth addiction
You in a personal study at all times exercise

You rest again a creature in an old world

You in daily life
You even think Mike is what is going on in this house but

You do not know the bear remember

You disappointed with nature count the best tools the eyes the things Laura on the
        bridge so little saying what if I school

You came out and there was a second-hand curtain

You lifted it
You unencumbered by things are such a whatever-bow in the fiery the dark
        curtain in the wilderness your head hurts

You was          not will be

You tense have come to the market
You get healthy

You work go to school to meetings

You was loved            and hampered              and in the morning
You are no cushion of the sea deep down and undisturbable calm

You often paint

You think of Mike on Sunday when
You count the mountains in the way

You thought about where the impossible locust is

You go to your head and
You see the things at the bank the beam the river

You go to Baker’s to close

You even lately go to the garden pine for a lilac
You planted

You a great physician examine your garden burn the juniper your hand above and
        fumes escaping

You trade nothing your voice over the hands unfolding
You on the track move

You are on every side

You remember that time when
You in bed lurked up in the night on the train

You on track

You book irregular duties on the mountain
You say ah these people so much for morning have many dots and spots and lines
        and keys in them

You do not have what comes next

You forgot
You ask are I in a summer sea

You forget

You look and there the feet the remains of the many persons in unknown ground
You pass your feet in front your right hand in a thin line

You go forward

You shouldn’t have what will your own shoulder lean on
You however bitter remember the wheel its movement stillness sullen a face the
        voice bloomed

You would hunger until the sound of rain and the broken pieces of a woof

You wanted everyday winter
You are not coming up for the position Susan is vacating

You in the tunnel

You and Mom on the tributary
You focus

You plant bitter plants

You get lost
You see the lowlands              the steepness              the uplands

You call friends

You stretch out stony
You hear intruder-hush

You clear crushed have done something ridiculous

You think yes a letter in the post box
You walk it out by day and back again and again

You only come for Thanksgiving

You and the character
You shower

You dream a work day

You am unteachable
You pay tax but do not take in the meaning        Dad     is it Dad     whatever

You feel like polite

You say lovely Mr. Dickmeyer
You take Mom’s smoking with an eye on him

You can always make a yield

You and the boys keeping hold of

You give some edges of a hand to the bitter plants

You don’t work by keeping still
You mold the gray full-orbed nature

You have many fruits in the garden

You and the little seeds
You mentioned the actual conditions the details

You already know

Karolinn Fiscaletti is a co-founder and editor of Op!, a journal of poetry, art, and criticism. Her work has appeared in Lana TurnerFourteen Hills, and elsewhere. She lives and teaches in Portland, Oregon.