POETRY
“Poetry is language at its most distilled and most powerful.”
my love is a glass shard, a knife made of madness and moonlight,
and there are already way too many fragments in this house
I count my homes—
those of my scattered youth
the sanctuary of our young family
the intermittent rest stops
of apartments and vacations.
I imagine that undressing a color, though, would be so much like peeling a memory away from the grey and the white matter of your brain.
Should have found a job by now; should have slept in the night;
should have boiled old coffee before noon.
Yes I am guilty, I’m guilty. A sin was desirable then.
Bring the dancer back to the stalks.
you know that
baby swallows make silver ripples
in wild rivers to court reeds?
it’s touch-and-go with me and weddings
I like to think I’m also sprung,
released from the furnace knocks,
done with the heavy meat stews
and salty soups.
I would always rather be happy than
dignified. Rather held than held
in awe.
Dylan Krieger’s poetry is unflinching, grotesque, and beautiful. Her work tackles trauma, wrestles authority, and is a decadent sonic feast.
The two of us toast to a man we both love, to whatever degree, clink our glasses and laugh…
