KA Rees



dust of stars

you wake. your whole body thirsts yourskin is thirsty, the skin on your face thirsts, and it rains as if you are awindow and rain just bounces off your edges runs down your pane and you are holding it out …

Posted in 104: KIN | Tagged

Bravo

I There’s dust and black plastic instead of beach, the curled tongues of lizards washed up bubbles of air—the ticking shoreline. Some beads like scattered rosaries. There are diminutive shadows shaped as organs lying next to stars. Here, a heart …

Posted in 93: PEACH | Tagged

We Make Lemons

after Allen Ginsberg You keep your dark light in jars of Vegemite, I keep my chest air in cans of lemonade and only breathe it / in super markets. Aisles of tinned goods, sugared cereal boxes wrapped in all the …

Posted in 86: NO THEME VII | Tagged

Etch A Sketch

I We found it. The house, down a jagged unpaved road the owner recently widowed coughed her warning: The peacock comes with the house lit the freshburn her next cigarette—floral nighty open to a tongue of breeze. We took it. …

Posted in 82: LAND | Tagged