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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

 

 

finally

a bunker will arrive

 

(via our spines,

fingers,

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

 

you     

finely mowed man                              I see

 

I hear                           your existence

 

shot     through     with stuff to           kill                  

weeds

            you smell                   

                                                good

 

 

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.