Sunday, February 24, 2013

James Grinwis

REHABILITATION IN NATURE


The vicious quoll
is a bloodthirsty marsupial.

The water ouzle, an adept bird.

The stellar jay who peeked at you
wondering about your sandwich.

The prickly pine hugging the rock

The grave movement of the river

A turnpike lit itself

The level of grass as it appeared
an hour before it was grass

There may have been something there.

I was in the morning what I was in the morning.

A void of stuff, an eddy of bricks

The light on an orange page

following the trail of a butterfly who is human,

a butterwoman.


James Grinwis is the author of The City from Nome and Exhibit of Forking Paths. He is the co-founding editor of Bateau Press and lives in Northampton, MA.

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Marni Ludwig & Kristine Morfogen [Part Two]

LITTLE KNIVES


Find the circumference in inches      of the hole in the upper middle of feeling
full        a level one       head injury and not the sunlight

as we had thought       or stay sleeping in the sky      in the family
position           still and equal               to the lack        how to get honesty

to make room             for tact               what we least demand of ourselves
the day going quickly            at the speed of sympathy        pediatric

needles to inject the hands                 blue evening breaking open
jailer,    I can't be the only one                         in the room who has been




























Marni Ludwig is the author of Pinwheel, selected by Jean Valentine for the 2013 New Issues Poetry Prize and Little Box of Cotton and Lightning, chosen by Susan Howe for a 2012 Poetry Society of America Chapbook fellowship.  She lives in Athens, GA, and in Brooklyn, NY.

Kristine Morfogen
is a native New Yorker. Although she got her MFA at Pratt Institute, she is a newcomer to photography. She currently lives in Brooklyn with her family. Contact her at morfogenk@yahoo.com

Sunday, February 03, 2013

Marni Ludwig & Kristine Morfogen

FUR

Lapping lapping as if god is a second stomach.

Is lichen a moss you ask if you kiss his fist are you basking
in an aftermath?

I answer, Like my father,
afraid to step foot in a supermarket.

In the parking lot
In the hit of my haw
In the pit of my lightning boat
I tape garbage bags to the windows
and am given take home pictures
of my bones.  It is my anniversary

and the dead have perfect hands
with which to match
their memory to the grass.

Did you think you would feel it in your head he said
when you were a photograph?

A white cricket clicked shhhhhh pity made you.

(my necklace in your mouth)

This is how I retrieve a life.


























Marni Ludwig is the author of Pinwheel, selected by Jean Valentine for the 2013 New Issues Poetry Prize and Little Box of Cotton and Lightning, chosen by Susan Howe for a 2012 Poetry Society of America Chapbook fellowship.  She lives in Athens, GA, and in Brooklyn, NY.

Kristine Morfogen is a native New Yorker. Although she got her MFA at Pratt Institute, she is a newcomer to photography. She currently lives in Brooklyn with her family. Contact her at morfogenk@yahoo.com.