Western Voices: Mari Deweese

Bio:

Mari Deweese lives outside of Memphis, and dreams of a place with an actual autumn. Her first book, Kinky Keeps the House Clean, was published by Nixes Mate Books in 2017, and her next collection of poetry will drop from the gibbet in fall 2019.

Aldonza

Surprises lurk

in all these doorways.

Which word 

is the right name?

Logos, sweetness,

meridian, morte,

windmill, sloes-

will any of these release me?

A filthy rag symbolizes

a filthy rag,

and dirty water tastes like shit.

If my hate for you

were half as heavy

as all my hate for me

you'd never rise.

Promise Me You'll Stain My Skin with Yours

More words in more tongues

exist in the mouth of relativity

than all the tongues that ever

uttered them.

They span outward

like Hopkins' shook

foil, flaming, brightening,

destroying.

When will we learn

the only lesson of permanence,

the importance of ephemeral?

And these words-

these scratchings on the surface-

and *these* words-

these effusive vibrations-

vanish from memory

as they never do from fabric

galactic: they are

the dark matter

the only matter.

Lance

Ergo

The aspens

Shive

r, reeling from a dusk

too humid in nature

for this season. Appetency

lengthens in the shadows

who ripple down the stone

the singing stone

burgeons in ecstasy

of thwartation. Courtly love

is less flirtatious than

curious: MY WEB FLIES WIDE.

Ergo

you are my mirror. The river,

The womb, the warrior,

the curse. I do not exist, but you,

Sun-kissed night, will rise

beyond the prows of all this

crusty understanding

and know my name

if it is the only gift

that I can give you.

Ergo

The wheel spins, the joints

Stretch, and we break

our own bread dipped

in our own vintage for

absolution, exploration, communion

and the three spirits

that hold us in contempt

until the polarity of chivalry

and degeneration slip inside

each other and release seed

to reach two-thirds synthesis

before a spontaneous abortion

in a gibbous phase.

Ergo

The falcon flies towards the east;

The dove flies south;

The moth in the window;

The wax on the casement,

Dripping. Do not let me in.

---

Western Voices :: Setu, February 2019