Two by


Laura Carter





Gesture and Movement





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.






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.



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—


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


doors releasing begonias


into dreams,

as a bombshell is blue,


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



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