from Vagaries


Jennifer Dawson





Fading From View



She walked down the stairs then floated out the front door

fading from view. She was the dream sequence, the sequestered, unfaltering.


It was in the undercurrent. Certain inalienable rights, long forgotten. Once here, once gone.


Become incomprehensible. If you can’t be seen, can’t be understood, perhaps the world becomes clearer. A tornado in water disappears as it dissolves.


Dear Anna, your distance makes you close yet I do not hear you. Cannot feel you near me. I falter.


When I have finally disappeared I can try driving the cliffs. When the sun comes out I will have burned up.







Along the Flawless Verge*



the length of lost sleep grows


so stretches the distance

               between lonely hillocks

               in disparate dreams


awaiting communion,                         mutual desires


to settle the blazing



in the dimness,

just light


                             the ha! ha!


of an awaiting crow




*“Flawless Verge” is a phrase borrowed from Virginia Woolf’s The Waves.  London: Vintage Books, 2004, p. 176. 









Jennifer Dawson is the author of Vagaries (2018), a self-released collection of poetry and prose.  She is a Portland, Oregon native.  She has previously done work in film, and was an interviewer, writer, and the copy editor for About Face Magazine for three years.  Jennifer Dawson is online at