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Elisabeth Blair

despite stones and scientists


curtains will billow in windows


pressures will rise as

a landscape descends


a burning cold with six fingers on each hand


we’ll say, that’s the Devil, then

prop it up like a pen in sand

eyeball it

burn it with some glass


someone with charisma will explain


we’ll listen




a bunker will arrive


(via our spines,


backs of thighs)


with traps all along the ground beside


no one will go near


pear trees will mark the border

the wasps like guides



hey coy, gritted



finely mowed man                              I see


I hear                           your existence


shot     through     with stuff to           kill                  


            you smell                   




Elisabeth is a poet, composer and feminist podcaster. Her poetry has appeared in S/tick, Wicked Alice, Dead Flowers: A Poetry Rag, The Literary Bohemian, Lilliput Review, Acumen Literary Journal, and others. In 2017 she was an associate artist at the Atlantic Center for the Arts working with poet Heather McHugh. Her chapbook, We He She/It, is available through Dancing Girl Press.