Now, all the nowhere
has the pretty panic.
In one moment
touch turned
the water to shells.
from pages 198-199 of The Death and Life of the Great Lakes by Dan Egan (W.W. Norton & Company, 2017).
Viewing entries in
Erasures
Now, all the nowhere
has the pretty panic.
In one moment
touch turned
the water to shells.
from pages 198-199 of The Death and Life of the Great Lakes by Dan Egan (W.W. Norton & Company, 2017).
Death meant to divide
the people from the river.
So much had become trouble
when the earth started to wake.
from pages 152-153 of The Death and Life of the Great Lakes by Dan Egan (W.W. Norton & Company, 2017).
The name of the sea
had begun to hold fire
for the beast that didn't
devour what life provided.
from pages 46-47 of The Death and Life of the Great Lakes by Dan Egan (W.W. Norton & Company, 2017).
Is it enough when
I take
the mouths,
one by one
as litany?
from pages 52-53 of The Death and Life of the Great Lakes by Dan Egan (W.W. Norton & Company, 2017).
Wicked
I knew
was one
mussel
revealed
to bind.
from pages 190-191 of The Death and Life of the Great Lakes by Dan Egan (W.W. Norton & Company, 2017).
Seeing the eyes
let go from watch,
my shoulders
built a city and sent
its name into the river.
from pages 160-161 of The Death and Life of the Great Lakes by Dan Egan (W.W. Norton & Company, 2017).
Unprotected, the universe
walked home to consider
itself a body.
What it held,
it gave like water.
from pages 140-141 of The Death and Life of the Great Lakes by Dan Egan (W.W. Norton & Company, 2017).
The young had been a fire.
The impossibility of light to fade.
They were wing and dove.
from pages 68-69 of The Death and Life of the Great Lakes by Dan Egan (W.W. Norton & Company, 2017).
I was
wife once
like a function
of tributaries that were
already common
and flesh.
from pages 82-83 of The Death and Life of the Great Lakes by Dan Egan (W.W. Norton & Company, 2017).
Because what was
started remained
stubborn in smashed
specifications of people,
the first vessel of a dream
spread its heads.
from pages 28-29 of The Death and Life of the Great Lakes by Dan Egan (W.W. Norton & Company, 2017).
That same whirr
never seen along
the wild flesh
of, almost ravaged.
That constant
expanse of people
as an infestation.
from pages 76-77 of The Death and Life of the Great Lakes by Dan Egan (W.W. Norton & Company, 2017).
To have
tomorrow swallowed
like a mouth that failed
to hold water
in exchange for living.
from pages 34-35 of The Death and Life of the Great Lakes by Dan Egan (W.W. Norton & Company, 2017).
Until the body
thousands its tilt
so tame, that most of it
had to be better.
One cell wended
out of take.
from pages 14-15 of The Death and Life of the Great Lakes by Dan Egan (W.W. Norton & Company, 2017).
As hitchhikers we
are adapting
to the
impact
of
profit.
We are
standing
before
what
we
leave.
from pages xviii-xix of The Death and Life of the Great Lakes by Dan Egan (W.W. Norton & Company, 2017).
The suffocated
glimmer of
luxury
draws people in
the shadows
of surface and lull.
The public
unstitching
quietly giving
up a balance.
from pages xiv-xv of The Death and Life of the Great Lakes by Dan Egan (W.W. Norton & Company, 2017).
This is how alive, my body
could betray me.
Neither of us love death.
We don’t want to leave.
Even now, life is
what I give away.
from pages 270-271 of The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood (First Anchor Books, 1998).
This is where I become desire.
There is no moon to steal
my eyes. I am
my own light.
I give the flowers my skin.
from pages 96-98 of The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood (First Anchor Books, 1998).
Given the women
one, two, hush.
I fidget under
eyes of ladies.
We all know
exactly who we are.
Among us we show
ourselves what we
can do to escape.
from pages 274-275 of The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood (First Anchor Books, 1998).
If women made men
consider what things
they thought. Then imagine
the government gave
authority to us. What will
we have gotten away with
or is this safety?
from pages 118-119 of The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood (First Anchor Books, 1998).
What’s dangerous
is to be reminded
of time, how it
used to be magic
when I thought
I’d never feel
the trouble I lived.
from pages 158-159 of The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood (First Anchor Books, 1998).