Leave Something Quiet in Shell of My Ear
unfastened
in the backseat a
portion of our music is
mucus flying into stillness
at what point do we submit
to the authority of flowers
at what point after it enters
the mouth is it no longer in the
mouth but the throat the colon
making sumptuous death of the world
this is what crossing the line gains
no need to pretend we
are the people we
want to be in
the next life
bone under
tongue drives
taste of snow to metal
sorry I threw up at your wedding
it wasn’t from drinking it was from
thinking on mountain all night waking
tangled in spirits of morning light
our planet floats on emptiness
the undisclosed mirror
held to flame
pushed it into
a pile of ash
a trail of ash
leading us
toe to toe
with wild sides
what’s emerging is
a grip we’ve been
reaching for please
grab hold with us
Copyright © 2017 by CAConrad. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on June 7, 2017, by the Academy of American Poets.
“This is a poem I dedicate to the great Margaret Randall and it was written from a ritual I did where I studied pollinators, especially the sphinx moth, pollinating cherry blossoms in Marfa, Texas. After a sphinx moth or bee pollinated a blossom I would pluck it and let it dissolve on my tongue while writing.”
—CAConrad
CAConrad
