All that glows sees

Kara Lease

The Angelic Organic

I almost miss the cacophony 

of Brash Crashing syllables

that New England
way of sounding

off on the street



that porch on Manchester

Street, that apartment

with carbon dioxide sneaking in
with the heat,
filling rooms in a drowsy fog



the street lights buzzing clementines

above the neighbor who has fallen
drunkenly in the street
and a band
of angry rescuers
Yell and drag at him 

in the confusion 



half a dream, I was resigned to 

the mess of it all

A dash of freckled sun

that was you in the winter



By spring the sky unfolded
and I was gone

1

i remember anne
mostly as a voice
on the phone or
a body curled over
the kitchen counter
crying at the end
of something i was
too young to understand

it turns out she died
4 years ago
somewhere in nevada

i didnít even know
she’d moved

poets and outlaws as
sparkling fuses between
the beating of wings
and the blinking of
buzzards in a desert
no oneís bothered to name

and later, pieces of harold
lloydís hand in the
prop bucket

and youíll never have to work again.

2

eddie finds a few
factoids and lorca’s
left eye on the
clearance rack in
the curiosity shop
of the human heart
they pay for themselves

and he walks out into
the world w/ a new found
faith in the christian work
ethic and lorca’s left
eye in his back pocket

the squealing of tires
and monday morning hung-over
moaning of would be
olympians manages to
keep the birds away
in a city where all
the signs read
fuck you pay me

Let us take all the long time we need
To wake up from our overdue dreams
Get out of the bed, and stretch our
Limbs as far as possible for a new morning

Let us take all the long time we need
To listen to the first song of the birds
Watch the rise of this summer sun, feel
The breeze combing each tree with tenderness

Let us take all the long time we need
To enjoy being together with our beloved
Exchange a smile so that they can stay with
Us just a few seconds or even minutes longer

Yes, let’s take all the long time we need
To drink this tea, to chat about this weather
To look back at the road we have travelled along
To think, to cry, and to die in lingering twilight

i love you more than that train car
& the things you made me feel in it
made me feel like the train car
(stained by clay/spring heat)
(filled with abandoned wasps’
nests you filled with cigarette
breath til it dripped out like
spit down your pretty mouth)
(like some day a couple o’
kids might just fall in love
within my red rotting wood,
their hands not touching but
held somehow–i remember
something in a science class
about how we’re all always
touching if you think about
the body as a magnet &
since i’ve met you i’ve been
thinking about my body as
one of those little wooden
train cars with the magnets
on either end & you as a
train car with a magnet on
both ends & my heart’s a
little kid with hands that
keep pushing us together
somewhere behind or
beyond the tracks, beyond
the smoke)