What if everything were revealed: where I was last night. You, etc. The rain is coming down like salad. My sister's hair reminds me of my sister so much I can't stop looking. Who am I to have arms? On the plane one short dream: a baby so small it wasn't even human, just a bouquet of light with wise cellular
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A Tyrant Seeks Conclusion in the Known Self
In California we went to the dive bar and I lost my wallet I remember falling into it And maybe kissing against someone’s garage I fell on city sidewalks In California and other places The trees looked at me tenderly I’m guessing You do not love me because your mom did not love you I understand the equation Meanwhile, I make a butter fire in the kitchen Two times I heat the butter for the eggs Both times I burn it Just observe, I tell My students, describe what is The woman next to me on the airplane Moves pictures from her wallet to her pocket In case we die I cry with my eyes closed and the Sprite goes by The unconscious drives us to master The childhood situation I wonder if there are spiders Here, in the carpet or between the seats A place with bugs is so Much more friendly The book I am reading tells me Ours is an earthbound crisis That until we cease to dominate With doing, we will fail At being My fingernails Are the color of rotten peaches On Orcas Island there’s a stone tower on top of Mt. Constitution Some days you can see for miles, the many Mountain ranges and pine-crusted bodies In my mind I practice dying I throw myself over the edge The plane is making its way into the streaking Sun of this country In Mexico I slept in a clay structure facing the ocean I could hear the wind constantly I bought you a tin heart with a hole in it I brought it back in my backpack In bed you said Don’t make fun of me When I’m old, okay? When I think of your face I have to think of me You are holding my knee And now I look into you Now I look up and face The abject fear I am an animal The bedroom is trees Go limp a voice tells me When a person passes me on their way to the restroom I pretend they are the kindly face Of god Look deep into the eyes Of the divine It’s so beautiful isn’t it To believe you are looking At the future
Emily Kendal Frey
Emily Kendal Frey is the author of Sorrow Arrow (Octopus Books, 2014). She teaches at The Independent Publishing Resource Center, Marylhurst University, Portland Community College, and Portland State University. She lives in Portland, Oregon.