Poetry
Three
TENDER
till feeling
till mechanisms
break down
what we got
what we get
till then
get through it.
Chords charge
a hilltop where
we watch suns
rise & then –
& stop – till then
come get through
just come just
get it. An erratic
ballad throws you
to the ground
begs a question
oh would you
just kill me
soft collision bugged
out in the gears
ready to go
home movie music
in the fore oh
that sound is
this sound what we
get through what
love gets through
where we are
oh we will
love watch the rising
sun stop till
all time comes
undone. A tendering
machine – prick
your finger for
warmth for blood
got through now
good now get
through it.
Erratic ballad
tender some wailing
keeps me in the fore
though I am what
I am. A repetition
a laboring below
that which we
call a name sings
what cannot
come through
catastrophic &
broke phonetics
phone in sing
ad hominem
get back get
where you go
come back
dirt collision
hole from which
a holy turn of a head
turning toward
stars suns. All broke
all just broken
down. Sit beside
me on this hill
& I’ll watch us
from my ditch
counting them
human impossibility
burning in my eclipse
over a lovely little
house up there
beside us – oh
what a lovely little
way to live believe
belie tie up
depart dig go
alit a lovely
little picaresque
on a wall in there
oh see us in it oh
come on feeling
oh what for
a tendering what
till feeling come
on come on
come on you just
get you drive
you just keep
you just drive me
to the ground.
CONSECRATION
For Tío Manuel, All Soul’s Day
Concrete broke by
my bare hands
disassemble a frame
treading motion
begins again
Before a stone
I’ll sway for you
for you I find
music here
triggers
everything
a filling of lungs
a full on breath
trumpets flood
weight on weight
I keep time
a perfect ellipsis
how it is always
to be in rotation
I keep talking
myself outside
myself so start
again so say so
let’s dance so
sway & keep time
so dance so moving
so then I flicker
Into your fore
my elegant fumble
into stone
a stumbling
backward
every animal
I could not kill
what if I would
if I loved the world
What if I would
would if I loved
got back stepped
held losses before
they came & then
what if they came
What that I may
stay in center
my rotation
controlled
my motion
break stone
my motion
broken stone
broke the frame
Full on breath
by which
we assemble
transubstantiate
the time become
something outside
something more
human more
animal something
outside of person
To be the wealthiest
man on earth
is to hold time
and I am poor
precipitation
as method fails
falls to the ground
Into your fore
I fumble finding
manna in
your aggregate
hands to stone
and my feet falling
behind just say
grace grace
grace
FOR I KNOW NOT WHAT I DO
Praise –
Praise
the anonymity
this strangeness
anomalous
weather patterns
uneasing
a day to day
what dazzles
what deteriorates
Broken skin
oil burns
dark roads home
wavering radio
this good life
empty storefronts
the shuddering street
The tempestuous
the shot that knocks us
to the ground tattered
flags on wired branches
papers and last names
three-part inventions
all our interpreters
all the bones
what we leave
in the boundary
Christian brothers
on the signal
our sleepwalk
together on tongues
taking in the fore
what is before us
invert atrocity
armaggedon
into self-shattering
& all the beach dogs
we remember
making the end
of the world
their home
equatorial balance
on the plane
charcoal we left
in the sand
what we made
the edge of the water
all the light
the world burning
burning
How lonely sits
the place
once filled
with people I had loved
How the extremities
come to
when I think of it
Contributor
Maryam ParhizkarMaryam Parhizkar writes, researches and works via her musical training. She is co-managing editor of Litmus Press and the author of two chapbooks: Pull: a ballad (The Operating System, 2014), and or, as for the future (Portable Press at Yo-Yo Labs, forthcoming).