Sarah Birl (Morrison) (Philadelphia, USA): Five Poems


you touch the lighthouse darely
as it tether-tarps your memory-taffy.
to the side faux whalebones converse
and I want to scrimshaw my love
into the very marrow of you.
behind us, the sea does not grant me
this wish and so I photograph their alibis.
the keeper’s shop is locked but still I climb
inside kissing the splinters I have hidden
within my mouth.


I sip the hours. Burn my tongue
realizing that jewel in the tree is you,
a luminous bird breathing my away
in a shimmer and a haunt.

My distance from you is a wishing well.
My distance from you is a comet swift-dipping
conundrums from the constellations.

The stars detect mirrorly our island parts.
Our mirrors are the wings of our song
and the melody spelunks and trapezes
again and again.


It is the glass chariot’s murmur.
It is the grave careening silence.
It is the marauder-cauldron of my heart
screaming poise, swallowing fecundity.


closer perplexed we, closer.
we two furls.
clue-set betting the betless.

the room, the face that is again.

in all this talk, we sketch and fret
ribbons of dominos, spools of find

somewhere kites kythe despite
our curveless raveling.

closer perplexed we. closer.


A poem in my vein
burst and landed
inside the balloon
of your detour. It
splintered cringing
the sign.

© Sarah Birl 2008