"Even Fear, Even My Heart" and "The tide they meet is living"

Even Fear, Even My Heart

Of the air I am
Attached at nothing.
Drinking smoke
For strangled youth.

This weather depletes
Even fear.

Ceramic voices chatter.
My world beside the conversation
Severed, submerged in curdled soil.

Emotions underfed
Like wreckage aerobics,
Death patterns.
Mesmerized by
Glass lights in this world
Are more clean than water.

My patriotic recitation sprawls televised
By low fidelity silhouette tomorrow.
My flesh is wrung and focused,
Confused for mutilation,
For stillness.

Torn for windy moments.
Human sweetness hatchet human.
Feeling reflex to laughter
Stuttered, feeling
Rotten heat soaked with
Shrapnel information.
Lost.

Fields fall in as lots
In lines of rubbish
Industrial bramble.

I am worried
Less self.
Aloft in the long fog
Of cackling air.
I am in mildew interim,
Silver weather
And it is draining,
Depleting with fear
Even my heart
For losing hold of fear
Inside the darkness.

 


 

The tide they meet is living

So tangled anxious to
Misplace my soul in nature.
Afraid that I will find me old,
sorting my reflections.
Terrible from nervous years.
The noise of life is constant.
In time I might forget myself
In course of vivid currents.
My bastard inclination
To wrestle with the ocean.
I cannot be so rigid
As to bend the world to me.

Legacy is melting ice.
The tide they meet is living.

 

 

Rats Trujillo

Rats Alice Trujillo is the author of two books and many zines of poems. They live and work in Seattle.

 

Edited for Unlikely by Jonathan Penton, Editor-in-Chief
Last revised on Thursday, August 26, 2021 - 13:38