The Future
Grant Chemidlin

We’re standing on a hilltop.

From here, if you squint your eyes, you can just
see it, he says.

Is it small because of distance? I ask,
or because—decay—so much of it already
fallen away?

I’m not sure, he says.

I stare at the sky & a long, gray cloud
fills me.

Quick, he says, lie down.

So I do.
He takes off my shoes
& with
a gentle push—I roll

slow, at first,
then faster, then laughter
tumbles out like

paper birds.
to find a way to wake the time
rosie stockton
silent, as always
rosie stockton
it is possible all déjà vu is intergenerational
   we had learned it once but have forgotten
      & we can’t explain it when it’s there

rosie stockton
it’s so slow moving—my understanding of you and my
self

rosie stockton
do not touch me, especially
not with your eyes

- rosie stockton
O mother
there is a violence
in naming
in showing up
to say
can we love with inadequate politics?
apart and pained?

Rosie Stockton
O Plato my Plato
I’m calling off our sessions

I’m blocking your image

Rosie Stockton
I am citizen of your fiction
Rosie Stockton

 A prisão dos nomes

You love your brother,
now suddenly you can hardly stand
the love flooding you for your brother,
who’s not beside you or behind or
ahead

Philip Levine
Fixed vortex on the far
Tip, riveting stones, air,
All of it, together.

Sylvia Plath 
And still the heaven
Of final surfeit is just as far
From the door as ever.

Sylvia Plath