All That’s Left of Coherence
previously published in eightmillionstories.com
Thick TV fuzz.
Black gone white gone
Matter & correspondence
compose memories (objects
designate their own importance).
Ashes scatter like ants
across pavement once
all the poems have
postcards & photos next.
The tequila bottle is almost
The Other Side
Break that dark piece of memory from her mouth
watch it swell and fissure like smoke;
The disease of the heart is terminal
she remembers and then forgets.
She dreams a beautiful death a waterfall
a string section of angels’ sighs
her ear opens, the arc of sound blooms
a flower beneath a rock.
In a cave a dark river running through
silence divides itself incessantly.
She’s a golden sphere set on fire by song
embracing an aurora of regret.
Profile: Alyssa Yankwitt