REM Stage 6: A Poetry Blog || julie niklas

These Days
02/12/2012, 6:05 PM
Filed under: Poetry, Writing | Tags: , ,

Morning movement,
the unmeeting of eyelids—
that is all heavy now
like mouthscent of yew berries
and deep brews of mercury
chew slowly, miss.

After breakfast vertebrae
topple over one another
like a jacob’s ladder
and it all gets strung up
on sensory input.

I am the sound of zinnias
and root rot and the taste
of a car crash: each muscle
remains in its own sleep
and feels like metal
upon waking.