Anne Gorrick


The April Garden


The sky's miracles gaze into her thinness
Weeping: what she does to give the days form
Because Shaolin gave me "Colette" in roses
The garden takes in her greening arms
willful, ancient wood narcissus
Spring's shadows fall into their fire

Guinea hens, obstinate and strange
The ancient yellow of narcissus in April woods

That which has extraordinarily expanded is recently thin
Crying is what makes the days occur now
The old yellow narcissus is intentionally strange in the wood
Photography lodges itself into one of her weekends
To stand still very quickly

Star of many miracles A and as for me
sometimes you'd think I'm composed
entirely of my own screaming
Grandmother: where we were large once

Cancer peels her into thinness
Each day now is a cinder
Darwin criticizes her lips
a pink impression, yellowed pages
Aluminum silk, cancer silver
She fasts and stands as though inside glass beads

The cancer believes in itself
Regard the many, many stars in her
"Colette" knows the essential color of roses
The writer believes firmly, yet it does not happen
Quiet inside an aluminum book

Consider stars, their vapor whistles
how they spread out their thoughts across the night
in our shouts, our affliction
How do you know the true color of roses?

Darwin's own blood spills
Changed yellows
I am installed inside a photograph for the duration of one weekend
The rope colored crown
Movement takes place in glass granules

The belief that time exists completely for cancer
The skin end of a dog
As for me, the stars are steam considered
The whistle is blown
and because of that, it spreads
The rose whose belief is secure

When knowing does not happen
Green, a fact which waits around for tulips
When fairness first changes from realness
I fast from silver
The aluminum silks of cancer
their glass particulates
engaged in movement, acquisition



Ella Etruscan
and Sien(n)a
                             for AB & TL


Noun mimics matter

                                           stutter wisteria
                                the color of noon

"How could your eyes be tired
           when they are the color of
starlight?" she said

           The exponential sun
           on Montauk
through slats of wisteria

                                           "Straw wine and tattle," she said

Moon sown with welts:
           lessons in tremor, bourbon

Under a halon moon

                      The Nile: a line of water or bone
                                 or powered wafer

"Feel this." "Titanium?" "Might be."

           Loom of welts
                         beach roses, solder

Loom of a town: Bridgehampton and sand

Braille of sense         survived nonsense

                                           10 raw letters spell his name

When a bowl in her arms feels like staring