I make a
list of demands
the
right not to be
always a
sight, distant
splendor
of night
hard
metal
dirty
mink
scratching
song
in the
soft parts
before
release
How’d
that tussin treat you?
All
hitherto existing society
Excuse
me you’re being paged
TRACY WANTS TO DANCE
on the way to the bar
I pass three other bars
what is known mediately
in trampled domains
with the wetness of a girl
on the phone fingering
a taut cord, a coveted bloom
of indecision
dots the horizon
thru this peep hole
I toe the light
I jab my finger in it
nay, I ginger gently
At the very moment
of emergence, obsolescence
as seen on drunk with dreams
over and above
my undying love?
Tar sands, high winds, and friendship
Sopping up the excess
with a cocktail napkin
as seen in fidelity
to our newest member
self-propagating
aeroelastic dream fluff
Alli Warren was born where the Santa Ana winds blow, and has lived in the Bay Area since 2005, or 2001 if Santa Cruz counts. Recent work can be read in a chapbook called GRINDIN (Lew Gallery), and heard via KQED (http://www.kqed.org/arts/programs/writersblock/episode.jsp?essid=107775). In the fall of 2013, City Lights will publish her first book, Here Come the Warm Jets. Alli co-edits the Poetic Labor Project (http://labday2010.blogspot.com/) and continues to contribute tidbits to that out of fashion form known as the weblog. (http://theingredient.blogspot.com/).
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