To be for infers
to be against,
just as take presumes give,
and tree’s up
Dear Ruse of Choice,
the goodbye on the side of silence
clashes with raucous hello.
An arm in a sleeve gathers an emptiness
in the one waving back to the one waving.
Hours up-hill hiking into the wind purge
the chest muscle of stasis, could fall felled
to a fragrant could fly.
Those alive can be necro-torn.
Cattails’ wind-awry reeds double-threaded by red-wingeds and rain.
Water seeps betweens and wind gales a middlescape.
Adhering to that logic, call the breeze
a loss of warmth.
A mind brittle in the now from the then.
Remembering ranges is this I a built nest
or the clashing vows of anachronism?
Call rain teeth or beads, then the rain
chews its own foot or strings a curtain of crystals
amidst which two crows bracketing a branch
slough a were curve
into the law of gravity—
arrangements by chance
as not dog,
A writer of essays, reviews, and poetry, Jami Macarty is the author of The Minuses (Center for Literary Publishing, 2020), winner of the 2020 New Mexico/Arizona Book Award—Poetry Arizona. Jami's second collection, The Long Now Conditions Permit, was a finalist for the 2022 Test Site Poetry Series Prize.
Jami's Book Recommendations
Alphabet (New Directions, 2001), by Inger Chistensen; translated by Susanna Nied
Loss/Less (Shanti Arts LLC, 2022), by Rebecca A. Durham
Earth Room (Changes, 2022), by Rachel Mannheimer
The City That Is Leaving Forever (Talonbooks, 2021), by Rahat Kurd & Sumayya Syed
Gazing at the Moon (Shambhala, 2021), by Saigyo; translated by Meredith McKinney
This poem, from The Long Now Conditions Permit, is what I might describe as walk- and word-determined. The poem was composed by sculpting words from a word-block built from written encounters and rememberings arising during a walk.