This one’s
not talking.
Cyclops’
optic
blast:
one thing
was clear—
this motherhood thing
fierce as earth was not going to go away—
views sited more views in gravitational fields of the page
the whiteness of the page seeping through or up
so as to not get ahead of the perceptions––
egret in green smoky grass leaking copper
vulva cloud takes to the tree––
If today you die If tomorrow brings lyric
If lyric is new fossil energy
Rain comes down the tree
permitted, unpermitted meanings scratched into tree
Love wants a beginning
The deepest letters
sitting a bit deranged alongside the more faint ones
in the bark discussing
what time
If today you die If tomorrow brings lyric
if lyric is new fossil
we have the energy
Gillian Conoley is a poet, editor, and translator. The author of ten collections of poetry, including Notes from the Passenger (Nightboat, 2023) and A Little More Red Sun on the Human: New and Selected Poems (Nightboat, 2019) Conoley received the Shelley Memorial Award from the Poetry Society of America, a National Endowment for the Arts Grant, and a Fund for Poetry Award. Conoley has taught at the University of Iowa Writers’ Workshop, the University of Denver, Vermont College, Tulane, and Sonoma State University. A long-time resident of the San Francisco Bay Area, she is editor of VOLT magazine. Her translations of three books by Henri Michaux, Thousand Times Broken, appearing in English for the first time, is with City Lights. Conoley has collaborated with installation artist Jenny Holzer, composer Jamie Leigh Sampson, and Butoh dancer Judith Kajuwara. https://www.gillianconoley.com