Robyn Groth
My Husband Adds Lorine Niedecker to His Vinyl Collection
with lines from Lorine Niedecker

The record player spins
Lorine Niedecker’s voice
into the living room
“My life by water, Hear–”
I see a note of moonlight
on the wood floor. There
her voice sinks through
the floor, churns through
the soil beneath the house,
“part coral and mud clam,”
turning & returning fresh
words the worms transport.
“A robin stood by my porch,”
she said. See me here now,
ear to the floor, listening,
for what will surface, infused
with my soil. I hear a buzz.

*Lines from “My Life by Water,” [For reach], and “Easter”
Robyn Groth
Glose on Hair and Hyperfocus
Let's insist it's not
disordered to care
about what we care
about, the lyric

-“Think: Pieces,” Gracie Leavitt

A follicle-close focus,
the gentlest lashes
open/close, too close,
let’s insist it’s not

minutiae probleming us
with thick pit fluff,
softly longing, and too
disordered to care,

we lean in, tender
nostrils pulsing
simple plosives,
about what we care-

fully comb, all of this
vellus on my fingers,
each individually rapt
about the lyric.
Robyn Groth
I pull sheets of spacetime across my bed:

Neon Filas align, water glasses shiver

& twinkle in cupboards, super-

fluous afghans draw in

to the darkening

basement, spare chairs

fold in
on them-

The gravity of expired

curry powder,

spilled clumps

of brown sugar,

common spice dust

is reduced,

and I can focus

on the threads





into its




this: space


to its

Robyn Groth
Light / Switch
the light switch / your fingertip, touching / and a light turns on / inside my heart, after so many unfelt grips / my hand around the fork, the spoon / in your mouth, reader, it’s personal / the chair cushions reshaping, the blanket a weight / over our shoulders, on our lap, up to our chin / a breath of space between us / this is the closest we come / to refamiliarizing ourselves / with the world / and what we’ve made of it