Michelle Detorie





all over again arrow thin the air
the medium form forming soft as
foam hands clasped or else from skin
skimming over butter cloth do we
win how does it end over as deer
clutter along fences flesh and hair
and black-tipped tails feathers
leafing out scattering bells pealed
pulled as if perfect came as a pin
cushion pursed for windows
and glassless winters chemicals






six fingered window, double-joy, the jolt
that becomes the figured. ghost bones
on the pane, where wings spread, fast
appearing, the world's too rushed. I'm
against dying. slick in winter, iced fringes
of dead leave in yellow. underfoot lines
getting wrinkled, text slinking into
a slurry of loose stems, betwixt
twinkling, the winking shone. sea
shivered in winter, pelican hovered
over oily rainbows, feathered letters
mixed with sticks littering the shore.