ANNA LENA PHILLIPS BELL
Poem in Shorthand (Spring)
BODY FIRST
BODY FIRST
of blood of wilting or willpower
Pacing the dim stage, a man said, It’s all recorded.
The heart-shaped leaves
run home from the trees.
Yesterday we bought a bookshelf
my head on your chest
when i fall asleep is when you fall asleep
A. These are easy, since they’re all air. You open your mouth wide
I came out of a beach
sex dream to doves cooing
Conley’s book, to adopt a phrase of her own making, functions like an “earworm for the Anthropocene.”
it was here in mid-winter