Process Music
Stretched
thin in the morning
Outer
lip pressed on
Lightly
and outside yes there are trees
And
light is moving along the floor
When
I think about winter sounds come
Bounding
out in raw flakes afraid
Retracting
their song into syllabic
Foam
there’s your poem someone says
And
I remember that walking in this city
Where
I don’t know myself
Quite
without you
All
the buildings are turning red
Strange
to think we are both
On
either side of the wall
And
the trees are still there
Just
now the air did something
I
could understand so my friend
Leaves
and returns so easily
Pulling
on my jacket she says look
As
two women standing side by side name
The
color of every passing car in strange voices
Laughing
hysterically they slightly delay
The
passage of crowds
ALEXIS ALMEIDA grew up in Chicago. Her recent work has appeared or is forthcoming in Prelude, Pinwheel, Gulf Coast, Action Yes, Flag + Void, and elsewhere. She is a contributing editor at The Elephants and an assistant editor at Asymptote. Her translation of Florencia Castellano's Propiedades vigiladas is recently out from Ugly Ducking Presse. She is currently living in Buenos Aires, where she has been reading and translating contemporary poetry written by women.
D U S I E