Category Archives: 2019

KATE GREENE.July 2019


KATE GREENE

Photo by Jeff Sirkin


 

CYCLOTRON POEM

FROM THE RIVER, BY A SWIMMING HOLE, DAYS AFTER,

JUST OUTSIDE NEVADA CITY, CA

 

What do you know about elements,

an arboreal-concrete bunker, a blanket made of lead

Follow a breadcrumb beam line back to the source my little grapefruit squeeze

Punctuated lids on and near ripples

Is it gold or is it Formica of the eye

A several universe

A several cave

A several pit full

Wait, when do we get to darling

And was it the cyclotron that did the eating

A send down to an everlasting cheeseburger meal

Tomorrow is for disco

And a weighty, transparent crystal stopper

Breaking what it is said to fix

 

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FROM THE DAY TOUR

 

Soccer analogy’s gonna need a bigger loop

How do you know

Looking for the exquisite molecule, you, my darling, are an exquisite molecule, a particule, consecule, logicule, a unit of universe plus a unit of space the universe takes up under its speedier greedier expansion,

hiding behind the corner that is a question

that is a beautiful device

In case of emergency punch those three buttons okay

 

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FROM A SHEET OF PAPER I FOUND IN MY POCKET WEEKS LATER

 

Am I hollowed out by the cyclotron or do I just need to eat a nondonut

Too bad, too poem

:all the events or the ice ball,

an ice bandage for the valley coils and those who love war biographies

What are your dreams, beam

Have I implanted myself successfully

Last I saw you you told me about your crush and its strength as if we were competing

Did you win

All this radiation is invisible it doesn’t leap over doors or into cars, not at this rate,

he heard a mouse in the line but do we believe ghosts

After all what’s solid and what’s a cot

No one saw us, privacy

Why the empty,

Windows yawn our possibility,

some kind of wrap-around balcony

If a non-impulse is a kind of impulse then a negative cube, an enduring cube, is still a cube you pessimist

Grass between toes at long last

 

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FROM THE NIGHT

 

The block is a wall in a crack and a light: orange or amber

An inner library of endings and issue voltage

is everywhere and this catwalk

dosimeter tickles minor

actors finger

puppets hamstrings

A flashpoint

Rooms dropped in the middle of a place

What is this room doing here unattached to other rooms why are there so many

midcentury modern oscilloscopes

I wanted to gauge your potential response so I said a thing that wasn’t the thing

To be near you and a little gentle collar tug

Moths-for-moths, the personals flutter

Between us is ten feet of concrete, something blocking and am I grateful

I am grateful!

Oh, a lie

is the reason for this party, a reason to live

And every few seconds a chime languorous and pink

the way it holds its tone

lingering after you’re done looking at it eyeball to eyeball

What is a love letter inside a cyclotron

The way that it just stays there a bendy heart with its secret notes

High rate of dream appearances

Congratulations you

out astral all the rest

Out of a cockpit or a passenger seat

there are no airplanes unless there are radio poems

Fixes for futzy valley coils

Writing you from a small dark room with three screens and racks of electronics, wires hanging

down like hair over a face

What a kind of face!

All knotty and painful to comb (the hair):

this is a cyclotron and I like it?

I’d estimate three times a week, maybe more

Not willing to wake up too soon either

 

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FROM THE MORNING AFTER

 

Good morning particle accelerator!

Good morning love

I followed you all night

Your beam through my eyes

Through heart, fingers upon skin

Your flesh, mine, turning breath

On both sides, breath through vent

Slow and dry, the morning footsteps

The padding downstairs as if

Any of us could make it, the turning

Sky, as if we could see it together, forms

Its one-or-the-other, you bend

My hand your rib my beam

Is a continuous particle landmark.

We ungain our purpose as it is

Morning! And you are walking away!

 

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Untitled 1

 

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Untitled 2

 

 

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KATE GREENE


Photo by Dia FelixKate Greene
is a poet and essayist living in New York City.

 

 

 

 

(Author Photo by Dia Felix)       

 

To download a printable PDF version of this page, click here.

 

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July 2019.KATE GREENE