Two by
Laura Carter
Gesture and Movement
1.
But what
can you leave
in space & dreams?
Pinprick in a thimble,
in search of plain language—
you’ll make
an exigent manner,
wooded rustling leaves….
There’s a tube of lipstick,
coffee colored,
perceptive as girl-in-jeans.
Thrown in a pool
with colored silks,
an alphabet’s a china
set: cosmography.
2.
Put a rose between your teeth,
facility’s text,
house empty and crimped.
No such thing as there,
a buoy wrote
on a lover’s surface.
Kneeling in white lace,
function counts to four
and goes off toward left.
Peace.
A lover holds on
to a future’s
videoed promise.
Writing sets—
a shimmering town
gives bric-a-brac
a home on an avenue.
A Fact
Timely a cyclist—
motorcyclist—
in pictures
and middle voice—
an empire
of nirvana’s
ideology critique….
*
Sitting in summer by windows
with a fan on,
in the year 2000
brand new perceptions
are a slow gondola—
relatively idle clause,
just on another side of this here.
*
He throws an onyx,
turns on a TV
and speaks his first few words—
sublime, oxygen, pin-tucked.
On stage a few friends
nurse stuffed animals—motley as ifs.
A happy verse, or
revolving
doors releasing begonias
into dreams,
as a bombshell is blue,
ordinary,
tight-lipped and narrow-eyed. Beauty!
She cuts him down to shag and mows.
*
He throws a white room
into dark,
and in hushed tones speaks of commodities.
Elapse of grapevine, revealed.
Nirvana’s new
a second time around where
a rude nude
turns on a windmill….
Laura Carter is a poet and teacher living in Atlanta, Georgia, where she earned her MFA in 2007. She has work in E·ratio 19.