The Jivin' Ladybug

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Jessica Grim

 

Tillage

 

Let me explain some

geography           to you

 

in the

farmlands’ front yard

recasting of

overtures—

              tender

attempts to vocalize signs for

“friend”    in

which the usual fusion

unglues

 

them trying
out toughness

 

instinct on the

         stint increasingly

    legit

it’s

        all      sightline—

 

tolerated well

   

more

isolated this

      leaving it the

absolute

  shutdown

 

wanting but not

     wanting to know where

 

a person in the void below

placing a sound inside another sound

 

as the

degenerative written

     tasks

never

 

in the main

 

ritual stigma

 

as if an island in the midst

these days clouded or

are they        clotted

 

just another day on the prairie,

beginners are told to concentrate on their

breathing only why is a visit so

appealing

 

their conquering stare

threshold of words words w/out

entry     at all

coinciding w/

             this day’s close blue—

 

only slenderest branches move

the most dependable of silences

 

chronology and other factual data.  an emotional history.  as it lived there.

 

sum up how you move

vocabulary was

       greener a way of having

acclimatized   basement   someone

wonders – though

not now not

over all

this summer sky

 

microscopic lines connecting you w/

    they in their cubist

 

pluralized, seriously

  diurnal,

    flip-top, open frame to

the present   

moving into thinking about

      trumpet vine’s revival—

      Pleistocene cartilage     cod glue

ruminant

 

no re-up

oriented a

solitude which is

properly made much of produces—

         a book explaining wind

 

serviceable taxonomy  oven-

proof hysteria

    the heat & humidity

suffocate we are living lives still the way we

do

 

impediment performs again but w/ less

silhouette          sad silvery

        cicada hums “blossom end rot”  

      stops

garden in mid-cry

a graceful thing     an

         open and

wide

    thing

         a practical entropy

this

distinctive   span   our

summers’

icthiary contusion

    green wall awash in adversarial

tongue hold         demand elations

         home sweet       attitudinal home

reshift  shorefront tedium     salutary dawn to welcome   

spin  momentum

 

creasing and folding up on itself along

longitudinal      go

      on and pack up your stuff your

bifurcations, peach stones, soft shoulder

     sleeps’

drear tones of

sepia

 

was it birds or rats or

some other

     notifiable   

 

  peaceful

            more like an interruption in the calamity

 

at the hinge more oil is applied

quiet paragons

    platelets exacting

the same as ever

 

you shape up that grammar

        ray of warmth upon

     the fetid swamp

 

late summer night  carrying     on

our having wakened

    again

          I can freely believe this

    a kind of charred

dilapidation dawns purple deepened

 

the curiously planed mechanism of

      those mishandled starts—

  crushed hemisphere

              populous, knickered

      truly original cleft

nuance w/out peer

a singularly           black morning

     hand held out      just so

 

a thousand provocations this

rain falling

 

content sputters sidewalk

flops up to meet your

foot the aquatic “blip” of

 sound reduction

its

relationship to memory

 

a wing and a leaf  how

quiet

       insubstantial

quill over endive

 

in its fixity its

       diptherial trot  our

 legs running ran there    against

         the nocturnal meanings “of our time”

 

one

is       forgetting

wailing or some other constant

 

limb

bracken

follicle a

seizure of desert lands

         after

domestic

nerve ending (in)

 

particular shades of blue gray and peach

          what mercy must we  show it

mea culpa

 

genuine fleece personhood details

across the spectrum

 

“I’ll just put this away“

boundary trauma

 

visual cue brings you closer to

the window

    -- page ices like the

window ices

in feathers  

 

the single most edible

ideal

within the bush’s bare branches the

chickadees sit puffed against the cold

 

low zone

addled         an

epidemic of dementia

our past as lived in dreams and

so quietly

the verbs fall

 

as in tilled,

the federation

schist

 

their spurious flare in the dull nights’

duration

marking it

 

as rooms occasionally

alighting there

nebulous

 

many (many) days later

I saw a lantern

 

aerodynamic lilt of that voice

it’s all recall  

in which one version varied so slightly

from the next

and their most excellent excess

 

 

 

Natural History of the Book

 

So where on the spectrum did

we think

we sat

 

notwithstanding the severity

of the symbol

 

the sewn binding

of the bibliographer

 

a kind of induction

ordered by history

 

purposeful blur—

        there upon the

satellite of our desires to

cast ourselves         out

        under the shaking of our

voices our projected

            futures keeping the word

close

 

clearing history of not

being able to see

their

     script     anymore looking down

listening or

     just

              looking down—

 

the saturation point already

up from where we gaze (upwards)      a

      kind of cloaking          of

which future do we then speak in

which middle distance do we see it

 

a position bound w/in

the book

 

our staggering recalcitrance

the page it’s on or the page it was on

 

that’s “concordance”, to you

The Jivin' Ladybug- A Skewered Journal of the Arts
 
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