Dear what now,
All these false endings. Nothing can (what’s a body, what’s a body to break up on): rocks, story of the buckeye butterfly’s eternal detail–I broke my abacus toting up your every spot dash & line darling.
Lightsey Darst
Lightsey Darst writes, dances, and writes about dance and other arts. Her books are Find the Girl and DANCE (both Coffee House Press). Her poetic work appears in Typo, Spork, and Diagram. Her criticism is online at mnartists.org, The Huffington Post, and Bookslut.
My dear ash,
Coordinated invasion “hold her head” Send you flowers on the eve of your departure The superior view sunders the walls that were You: what rules is lure of earth.
Wild caught
With your passport to the dream you can enter & depart * Well. This would have bored you already, murmur music, mystic tornado chasing– You’d yawn, asking, whose have I become? why do I work now in your dreams instead of my own. The making ephemeral: New York to London in 45 minutes– So much for… Read more →