Mansions of Ink
a truck disappears into subrational experience here is your ladder and its swabbed-out throat the last act was replaced by a faded curtain in the ink mansion where I make my home light streams in as if the moon were assembled nightly for the view from a receding coastline * my machine wants a bridge’s lexicon to evaporate the way drapes disappear into lazy evenings rooted tendrils outlive images compost clings to the word monument the dead wasp is tragic the same way an open hand bounces back and forth from margin to margin migrating swallows are smoke ribbons ornamenting the broken world with its radiant scenery this scene is a system free from authority and a dance of dented harmonic orchestras
Scenes from an Unwritten Play
withdraw to your room when the spectacle ends the logic of a lapel begins to flake away voices echo in the gills of a silverfish farther out where billboards code-switch the city into the language of musical inflection there is a mouth gaping beneath the novel beneath a green dumpster, a mimicked bust the landlord called an opera statute * the green world sits just past a window painted shut to resemble scenes from an unwritten play the first movement swells with a grace note’s stubborn whisper, the imprint of a complex organ when the spectacle ends I will die in a poem I will maunder through its remnant word garden
Connor Fisher is the author of four chapbooks including The Hinge (Epigraph Magazine, 2018) and Speculative Geography (Greying Ghost Press, forthcoming 2021). He has an MFA from the University of Colorado at Boulder and a Ph.D. in Creative Writing and English from the University of Georgia. His poetry and reviews have appeared or are forthcoming in Typo, the Colorado Review, Tammy, Posit, Cloud Rodeo, and the Denver Quarterly.