{"id":4107,"date":"2013-09-01T02:48:07","date_gmt":"2013-09-01T02:48:07","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sporkpress.com\/?p=4107"},"modified":"2013-09-01T02:48:07","modified_gmt":"2013-09-01T02:48:07","slug":"3-poems-lightsey-darst","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/2013\/09\/01\/3-poems-lightsey-darst\/","title":{"rendered":"3 Poems || Lightsey Darst"},"content":{"rendered":"

Mystery of the pregnant man<\/em>
\n 
\n 
\nFor at least eighty minutes in Magnolia Mississippi I sat curled inside my
\ndead mother as she lay on the kitchen floor. She\u2019d been chopping onions.
\n 
\nDear world, you leave us such strange clues to draw conclusions from: a rudimentary
\nbeating heart, mad sack of face, nine perfect toes on one cleft foot. But how should we
\n 
\nbury this\u2014blew a tooth out of his nose, & to our surprise & horror, someone\u2019s inside
\nthis man who comes complaining of a stomach pain. But not someone: we tried
\n 
\nto ask or name it, but its one eye wouldn\u2019t blink, so we stowed it, no cure,
\nin formaldehyde for our new museum. Flourish of flesh, cellular smile\u2014a bone spur,
\n 
\nwe told him. But late nights, it whispers to me, \u201cWith this instrument, I see right through
\nyour dull ordinary. Three thumbs are better than two, love is stronger than hate, inside you,
\n 
\nabnormal growth started at the age of ten, following a grave dream. He is still growing,
\nentirely rotten & hollow inside, the glittering cyst contains a primitive mind
\n 
\nthat tells you what to do, but it doesn\u2019t matter: who is without a flaw?
\nYou know life can be different than it is\u2014the world is good & filled
\n 
\nwith good people & most of them doing good deeds why then should we not
\nall smile & be happy?\u201d Persistent infection in her brain. Shut down by the Humane Society
\n 
\n <\/p>\n

Smashed diamond
\nYou\u2019re feeling like a slightly heightened version of yourself.<\/em><\/p>\n

 
\n 
\n____________________
\nDebriefing the survivors<\/em>
\n 
\n 
\nWant to ask you a question, show you my face. Want to ask you to show a face a
\n\u201cDon\u2019t be afraid to be human\u201d face \u201cbut I think of myself as deeply faceted like a
\n 
\nhope topaz show me your don\u2019t be afraid to be\u201d [surely I shall be holy when I\u2019m only
\ndust] \u201cWe couldn\u2019t get nothing out, just ourselves, our house jet
\n 
\n& garnet, lintels eaves flashings falling, \u201cI\u2019ll never
\nforget one death. Well they may make it, but some of them may not\u2014
\n 
\nmiracle our fatalities & injuries were that low (\u201cpraise plasma\u201d) heard
\nit creaking, making noise it shouldn\u2019t make, and then it just started falling
\n 
\napart. I would start at the foundation: root gnawed through.
\nBut relax. And if you\u2019re still here, smile. It means someone\u2019s looking out for you.
\n 
\n <\/p>\n

Look out: bridge on the move
\nIt\u2019s a diamond in the rough.<\/em><\/p>\n

 
\n 
\n______________________
\nDance dude<\/em>
\n 
\nOnce upon a time,
\nThe crime.
\n 
\nWhat are you looking at? fury.
\nFastenings come undone\u2014lighthouse not lit\u2014this hour a fake &
\n 
\noil slicks our ocean, the community destroys its common interest ounce by ounce,
\nso you must cease to be afraid
\n 
\nof coyotes, desert sounds. I wish none of this had ever happened,
\nlosing their damn minds, he put a handgun to my head, scared, held
\n 
\na silver penknife to your throat, bled, but no one injured, police said
\nterrified. \u201cI don\u2019t know how to prevent, I don\u2019t know
\n 
\nhow many times I stabbed her & I don\u2019t know why I stabbed her,\u201d no something is
\nhappening, no [sleep with cleavers] lord,
\n 
\nwe\u2019re being robbed of something here\u201d\u2014
\nwhile pearly everlasting, the mortician\u2019s flower, smiles rotlessly back at you.
\n 
\n[like the smell] [hell
\nis a place where they bring you drinks\u201d
\n 
\nArchways that fall apart as you pass through. You see, nothing
\nreally is as good as it looks, leave the groceries on the counter, boy, I\u2019m tired.
\n 
\nBut still I don\u2019t know\u201d\u2014your sister\u2019s death
\nin her garage, causes scatter like crows at a stone.
\n 
\nYou must read the annals of the anarchist\u2014nothing else
\ndoes justice to this year
\n 
\n <\/p>\n

Man opens fire at church festival in California
\nCactus. Need to keep others away for various reasons. Feeling old. Feeling odd.<\/em><\/p>\n

 
\n 
\n____________________
\nLightsey Darst<\/strong> writes, dances, writes about dance and other arts, and teaches. Her books are Find the Girl <\/em>and the forthcoming DANCE<\/em> (both Coffee House Press). Her poetic work appears in Typo, Spork, <\/em>and Diagram<\/em>. Her criticism is online at mnartists.org, The Huffington Post, and Bookslut.
\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Mystery of the pregnant man     For at least eighty minutes in Magnolia Mississippi I sat curled inside my dead mother as she lay on the kitchen floor. She\u2019d been chopping onions.   Dear world, you leave us such strange clues to draw conclusions from: a rudimentary beating heart, mad sack of face, nine […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1,2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4107","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","category-things"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4107","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4107"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4107\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4107"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4107"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4107"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}