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.