PC: Celia SchoutedenI Know I Have To Take These Pillsbut I have this block happening—I believe I am convinced if I stick them behind my tongue—the migraines will disappear. My voice will come back—the trees will reveal themselves to me! Again! Allthing has stopped talking to me—my host of inanimate lovers. Green is no longer GREEN as I want color should be—resolvable. To be. The cello does not alight inside my chest—the violin has become a barrow of strings—creaks over stagnant waters. I cannot feel the sun on my face. I go outside now—o maybe the sun through the borders of my window were more eloquent than I can be. Typing has gone to shit. Fingers—steer me wrong every time. Five to 5:30 with cars in between. How can I swallow when this is all the words. Allow me? Nesting: BoilingI'm up too high now, faced with this beak. I swoop elegant, curvy, bowed—I roll ploughed, polished and feathered. Dismantle myself for the sun with each new crust—great flowing below this blood—below your rock my universe boils. And even the universe is stunted lately. A should’ve-been whirling mass, I suck stars, encircle—I melodrama and too-much need you. Goddamn break down this gravitational pull—these neurons once fired, are white-hot as coal fleeing on air. Fluid nature preens but never prevails. You plucked me from xylophone bones. You, minus a G flat or maybe an A sharp. Molded sound from mud swathe set afloat straw creation—haphazard, I float deep and wide into orbital eddies. Then the toothed daughters I bear from your clammy hands (as I burst into spontaneous being) scatter along our vessel—until this still lagoon catches. About The Author: Kari A. FlickingerKari A. Flickinger's poetry has been published in or is forthcoming from Written Here: The Community of Writers Poetry Review, Iron Horse Literary Review, Burning House Press, Door Is A Jar, Isacoustic, Ghost City Review, Eunoia Review, and Riddled with Arrows, among others. She is an alumna of UC Berkeley. When she is not writing, she can be found playing guitar and singing to her unreasonably large Highlander cat, as well as obsessively over-analyzing the details of neighboring trees.
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