plaintive plaintiff
i.
nascent and unused
i am scarred and forever
withered in her hands
something about time and sound
soundings
the soundings of the bell
the soundings the peal
the bell the ring
sounding out like hell
something about memory
the memory
chanting,
a bell (a mother is searching)
inside, surging up
from inside of not-sound
happiness obscures
a view this view
the sound
elegant and disappeared.
ii.
we are the sheen
of then & now & ours
& her & we are not within
the time of narcissism
A beautiful image
floating in the water
(between) I forget to look
(((((airedales & poodles))))
and sorrowed by the secretion of eternity
and the unstill secrets
that come in waves
cellophane of the unchanged
I am here and
hello hello I am speechless
I cannot speak I am lost
in clouds in waves in things
that move but do not soothe.
in echoes unannunciated, this dry baptism,
these tearless cries. Muscles
unravel. In the canyon,
slowly sloping a textual echoing hello hello…
what sort of canon exists in such a canyon
what would we do without the elephants
and the ferns accordions in vapors seen
and unseen
iii.
Chandeliers seeking
trying to find light
despairing in failure
crashing crashing
“There was nothing much here
and now everything is here”
counterpoint staring
desolate and aware
of the darkness and that one point of light
counterpoint meets one of its own
I am vacant and snared
carnal, cranial and bared, the needle cloth tears
and in the darkness there is a light
in the darkness there is not a light
vacant and spared
exiles return home
exiles are lost, wandering around
exiles soft, and savoring the time
all of us are vacant and scared
what survives, by some miracle
iv.
yet really confused about the process
of destination, limitation, wandering around
in circles, or sitting still tree-stump staring
while the rest of the tribe is leaving sunrise
what wanders around in circles trying
what stays still, stays put
cellophane cinders
desolate and quiet and nothing much here
but soon everything will be
and sunrise is coming, and hurry and hurry
and tree stump is staring, tarrying, tarrying
v.
Accomplished with what we lack
sounding out like hell
something about memory
the memory
something about a bell
chanting
inside, surging up
from inside of not-sound
“never be faithful to me”
I said happiness obscures
a view this view the sound
of the not sound within
all sound how can I find
it with you here without you here
I can hear
Portia peals the bells of void, of lack, of you
and you, yes even you do not recognize me here
in this space with me, with the lack of me,
myself so elegant with disappearance
vi.
I am just a plaintive plaintiff, hear me,
make me real, make me feel
shrieks of skin butterflies drown
in the shower of sun I am ever
and steel and reel me in
Fishes of satin and sea quakes forgotten
I had to steal it I will have to steal it steal
what I have been denied
what I have denied myself
carrying carrying skyscrapers steel
I am forever in the distance
with the finches with the seals
never forgotten what will end here
we will all end here
under the ocean it is
fine here, everything finally OK here
in the ocean,
here with you death and sex
and forgetting and drowning, we will
lose everything here
In the here where here is forgotten
finally but shadows
want to be more than they are
in between (you are)
the seashell, the sisters hidden under ladybug ferns
it is OK here
really except for these cistern encasements
mausoleum floor-songs
elephants implode
and seas are driven senseless
and salads and cucumbers are living
in cages, and casements of seashore
are sleeping in stages, numbered and lotted
we are all living shadows
elephants haunt us
and seas live in basements
shoresongs enraptured and
plaintive prescience, such preciousness
I know I hear I know gladiolas
are screaming on rooftops
I know I see I know sundials
are in between us and you know
what the shadows between us want
carrie hunter has
been published
online in the Muse Apprentice Guild, Moria Poetry, Eratio Postmodern
Poetry, Voices in the Roses, and in print in SCORE magazine. Work
is forthcoming in Aught, and as part of Furniture Press's PO25¢EM zine series.
is forthcoming in Aught, and as part of Furniture Press's PO25¢EM zine series.
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