“One reverses the arc back to you,” she says, “and stability becomes residual.”
Fabulist’s line: wasps concede concentric motion to apple.
“The word armor loops across the page with such an undulant effect he forgets the cold.”
Resolved into black pincers some writing fabricating memories.
Let the people disintegrate, paperwhites.
Capacitive, the habit becomes Flick the maple into motion, finches Descend the tree as a fixture of motion sprouted, snuffed then preserved, leggy and pale One goes to the paddock as to an incision Add glisten, add preternatural intimacy Crocuses rail to the fence in what fleece stories can muster and droop, offering slack chins; chorus into the ground
Transom lock one performs, marshalling wrens as intermediary vectors, as dialogue sluicing against door Cheek cannot devise, at removal of her hand, such stories
Back that with splintering voice Imagine city riled into raucous feather, days hauled from mouth
The wasp stunned, caught between their bellies
Hummingbird drone, & entrepreneurial sweep of the hand, “I’m concerned about access and naturalistic presentation; about a description’s predatory sheen.”
Cardinal, as if creasing one’s line of vision
Sentence possesses the owl more than values its trajectory
Sunlight, a locution, a chainmail inexpertly containing the stream
The moment one expects priority its wing flecks off the palm
Choral tree she winks with her voice and a wren, not a bearable fire in the room, what option they leave their bodies but to stimulate the room and to surpass it with suspicion
Lick and light shines from her knuckle, auroral
Immobilize her, mouth impact so that jaw lands on crown of her head
Lance Phillips is the author of four books of poetry (Corpus Socius, Cur Aliquid Vidi, These Indicium Tales, and Mimer) published by Ahsahta Press, and a book of experimental autobiography (Imposture Notebook) published by BLAZEVOX. He teaches high school English and Creative Writing in Davidson, NC.
This originally appeared on November 8, 2017