Carleen Tibbetts




It lies unsuspected: a sleuth
tick burrowed
into your sock at the ankle.
Cognizance is fever breaking,
is picking up a shell and
hearing not the ocean,
but the blood rushing your ears.
It grows so quiet, the rush becomes deafening. 




Notes on a Problem


a great wordless humming      
a backward-blooming
                        [a mark]
an unthatched heart                            
an unbinding synthesis                       [ a measure]
a parsable alibi

also, to go off someone
also, to spark into oneself






This is how we come to loss:
faintly, imperceptibly,
as we are knit together,
as we are mapped,
as our soul says, I choose this body.