Fugue State

Light consumes itself in space and under a bridge, in a howling river,
in a bag, beneath the floorboards, in her apartment, in a field,
on fire, in the trunk of a car, in a dank basement,
in Montreal—

We look into a stippled sky where somewhere seven Earth-like planets
spin quiet around a distant dwarf star—
a foundling.
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Three poems from Alphabet de soleils

Dallas Gilberte H


Let’s catapult the conchoidal colocynth
Let’s catapult the choephori of the coliddors of the tifth
and the mitten cruncher, the tomcat cruncher, crunchers of sheep
note cruncher, crunch-in-your-mouth and in arms and in deaths.
Let’s catapult the lynx and the oriole’s cochineal mantilla
let’s catapult the mango
and the mongoose, shoo!
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belly breath

i don’t want to remember another time they pushed me
yesterday or know the feeling of how they pushed me yesterday
or how i threw myself away or how they forced it

i don’t want to study my breath from inside
my room or watch my chest fall & harden
fixed with breath caught & you
who watched me fall into memories

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St. John’s

a museum (The Rooms) with a taxidermied flamingo,
a bartender (Olivia) with perfectly winged eyes,

the sight of the full moon’s bright
from the darkness across the harbour,

and the oddity of hearing Sade played
in such a small, white town, two days running.
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