Two Poems

Jane Lewty

INVERSE ALBA #2

 

I nevertheless saw objects fall, foreseeing they would

Large road, wheat in sticks

Hotel of a house

Where the screen glows all night

Turn me

Blood rilling, deco goodbye

In ampere hour

There’s a horse it’s listening

Eyes/ears gyring down, rounds of ink

Sockets an inkbody, so-called body

A go-between

Phrase it, phrase to it

Run your hands

Think with your hands about ether disturbance

pregària without action

For this is the way

And don’t forget à reculons, through a condolet

Conduit, horse listening its holes

Dented

In con + ∂oleσ

(“feel pain, suffer”)

Our scent will find us

Static and all rather funny

What every hour does to a crime

Gives it the cardiographic flutter, yes, a heart

In zinc bluegrey fall of

Deep chamber nuèit or ∂ay

We writhe and dim

untimed in the narrows

For this is the way

Dented and naught beside

Run your hands

Turn me

You stood the (nights), the sun, the bare bitter glades

but faith without works is death also, I know

Faith without works is death also

 
 
 
THE ADDRESSABLE

 

Circumspect is a noun-verb tailing

is it cold or cld, firing off misspelt acute and cut

 

the hang and the dart, the know and the press

wan or want, to say sorry I’ve not seen

 

vapor ride from surf or supine travel, langueo,

can’t sift flour, appear to be fearful, I say “appear”

 

sorry I’m not a cleft honey leg cross, slender shade on pale wood

pimento, baby eel or some graffitibright

thing in modigliani hand

 

your best eater of strip and earth taste, papillae aware

and of course you’d want the body who did that

 

a vital attuned someone to say, yes, I see what you’re seeing

deep-red rampart bayonne, all-at-the-throat kind of beauty

mutinous sharp star of land

 

no I didn’t go or do, didn’t

just pack up and ad[d] or ad[vert] it, but the word inbetween:

 

Averted. Sat in frames, addressable. Anything but

coastal or love or pulse weaving. Come on, say infirm say ashen.

 

Say I overuse “inchoate” and I’m the age I am.
 
 
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Jane Lewty is the author of Bravura Cool (1913 Press: 2013), winner of the 1913 First Book Prize in 2011. She is currently a visiting assistant professor at the University of Amsterdam. Recent poems can be found in The Volta, jubilat and Apartment.