~For William
Let us speak of the risenmoon, and the blood stainof the setting sun on the watersof anguish and ecstasy; all the riptide currents that pull us under
Meditation on my catastrophic progression memorialized in fishtails
i.when i lie down in the brown creek after watermelon wedges,the pastel spandex of my stomach rises above the murk.tiniest bugs whirl between the silver-white of my fingersand minnows, like a…
Uno
We skip school and I drivefast down the uneven road and take flighthands hover the wheelbefore weslam the tiresrewind and play the same songturn up the music.
Madness to think this is happeningin someone else’s poem: we’ve been rediscoveredin the late-late work of Larry Levis, dug up from a false-bottomed drawerstuck in a locked box buried beneath his cowboy boot-sole, some grad…
Both disease and cure will rob you of yourself
my psychiatrist said,glasses suspendedfrom a necklacebrash as a trapper’strading beads.
— — — — — — Nichole Riggs is an MFA candidate at the University of Notre Dame where she studies poetry and teaches creative writing. She currently holds an editorial position with Action Books, and periodically works with Spork Press. She has poetry published most recently at the…
By the time they snipped it from my finger(not the same jewelera different one)it wasn’t even dramatic.
All the drama had seeped out long before,only to flare again in occasional…
From the moment Peggy tries it on, she loves the T-shirt. The three gray dancers, stick-figures, leaping across the white front. The high cut sleeves accentuating her muscular arms. The swooped neck curving right under the ridge of her collarbone. She can’t…
I. Birth
Under the flowerless jacaranda tree,
my mother eats me
and throws my bones over the hedge.
everything i say is wrongmy language incorrect, intentionis invalidemotions are a course in sciencewhere we hypothesize eachothers’ feelings & experimenton their quick bleedwhat we’ve determined is this:the movement of the tongueis the…