Poetry
Three
Young Continent
for C
Futurity jags
the ether collapse fold young continent between
and, thinking
Oh imagination
imbibed on all this want extreme elixir clarity
not as tonic but as dash
right down the center of all
notion
Bloom
of dear hello hi and dearest yours
I wish that you were here
A beat just long enough
to grace
the crowded
room
pre-lingual
introduction
Thank you for having us here
New Work for the Desert
for Beth Gill
Please smooth back his hair
like falling features, learn
to tender. Shoulders
squared
in touch repose
accordance to the thought
for just so long
between you two
a softening
Move away, now forward
“The risk is a part
of the rhythm,” Edwin Denby
writes in Forms in
Motion and in Thought
Suspending problem for a moment
Here, the light
a spectral space and if
it weren’t for this wind the
light would be
a garment
for B
We tore into in-
articulate flip
fine line of comedy
bowed
snap banter
now
it’s undecided,
what Gilda called
“The Whirlies”
woozy, louche
clamorous
mess becomes
a room with such a view—
cruise docked next to battleship
Manhattan and a cut in my nose
goes unhealed for weeks,
Springtime
allergens
lindens look so lovely
though
show folk with a duffel bag
we are humming the same thing
Oh won’t you
shine a little light
on me
Contributor
Corrine FitzpatrickCORRINE FITZPATRICK is based in Brooklyn. She is a recipient of a 2014 Creative Capital/Warhol Foundation Arts Writers Grant.