Sunday, August 28, 2011

Farren Stanley


The surface cannot hold so just
give it a little tap

tap tap  

The shape in the distance stretches and sighs, suggests
a mountain, the fin of some predatory

fish, the encroaching tooth, a horizon  

(trees, corn) (razed fields)  

by destroying the document you can force the eyes behind,
and through

the document becomes artifice and the wall, performance

here you can find a muscular red expanse and  
off-centered, the slit, one freedom contaging
into another,


document of violence. (I used

to call you the Big Bad Blond Wolf.) You could
think: streamers twisting in a birthday wind. You could
think: the empty chorus mouths, you could  
think: curtains you could turn sideways and  

slip through. Behind that red curtain waits Abraham,  
your lover, a commuter rocket to Mars. Flack mouth in a  
Red world. I will meet you there.

Click this link to view Lucio Fontana's "Spatial Concept, Waiting."

Farren Stanley's place-of-origin is Santa Fe, New Mexico, though her heart has followed her body to Tuscaloosa, Alabama, where she is a MFA candidate in Poetry and Editor of Black Warrior Review. She lives under a massive Magnolia tree with a dog, a cat, seven orchids and the occasional lizard. Her work is published or forthcoming in Marginalia, Caketrain, H_NGM_N and at Greying Ghost Press.