HAND HELD
Hold your wits
up to any light - you might see him.
Hold your hand
over page or screen
over sheet or flag.
Use a cinematic gesture.
Obscure the gazelle-like information
the dream data confers.
You might seem forgotten.
You might mistake him for seen.
He’s having all his body parts
returned to him via
the imitation of something that doesn’t exist
so he can reject all the other
plain decorous effusions
these lice, this night, these stars.
Together, we could send letters
up to the moon’s touch - a “p.”
No, it lacks a certain severity
salt in the groundwater
reflected off the oceans
off the diffuse brown moon.
I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE THE PHYSICALITY OF MY LIGHT AT LEAST REMIND YOU
Wind sets you free
books set you free
fun, it seems still.
Oh fire, no, not yet, don't—
brush me with your tunic.
In my fingerless gloves
blood squirts on my halo.
Put your zealous face on.
I'll have clouds
shrouding my torso, thanks.
There will now be some supernatural paper
There will now be a miniature america.
a split fig look
seeds' nanosyllabic writing
seeds' ubiquitous Victoriana.
What to do about liberation?
Jared Stanley was born in Arizona and raised in California, where he lives to this day. He's the author of Book Made of Forest and the chapbooks The Outer Bay, I Something Scott Inguito You and In Fortune (w/Lauren Levin and Catherine Theis). He co-edits Mrs. Maybe w/Lauren and Catherine Meng.