Monday, November 23, 2009

Four New Apps


You can't
get it when
you want it,
but when I
want it I get
it; she rolled
over on her
belly, which
was very full,
and slept; its
just shadows
on the wall, I
thought, dark.


Battle for deliverance,
struggle for salvation,
Christ's passion condensed
into ten fluid seconds,
sections of flesh leaving,
sense of "Geist" overhead.
Yet you've shrunk before
Romance into "post-
everything entropy," so
even the love of one's
life becomes another show,
rigged like a government's
actions, glommed onto
deadly ennui. Christ.


What words get sent up
on sharp frequencies are
fractious, bent from pain,
Hephaestus in iron-groans,
what goes up sticks around,
so that base/top get covered,

all things resonate like pitch-
forks, tweaked by conductors
before their final, triumphant
performance for a hall empty
of bodies, filled to capacity.


Here's where shifts (red shifts)
happen in perspective, I thought,
slopping dark meat onto my plate,
here's where angles converge to
put me past the nest. General
laughter over pictures, womb-
like spaces, but I was in hers as
I was in with them. It hurts, but
he's dead, I never met him. It's
a shame, I never met him. Blood
moves through air: between her,
me, them— leaves on concrete.

P.S. Earlier Apparition Poems, from Beams/Jacket 31, in The & Now Awards Anthology: The Best Innovative Writing, from Lake Forest College Press. And being taught at the University of Oregon by John Witte.


Poetry Pleases! said...

Dear Adam

My favourite out of these was the third one. I liked the sentiments and I liked the shape. Keep up the impressive work!

Best wishes from Simon

Adam Fieled said...


Many Thanks.



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