Listing
Was Orpheus skyclad when he went down
on chunky alabaster Eurydice. I am 26
percent sure I am in love. Found
my husband. The ulcer of the Earth projected
rotating on his wall. Holistic
from the space station. He plays piano.
I smother when he fucks
up – I can do this. The sun sets in California.
Maybe If you love something let it go wasn’t
invented yet when he thought I must save
her with my music. Full of spiced zucchini
I would’ve rubbed my gut into the couch
and said I am living. This counts.
Three Wakes
your eyes and don’t
it’s not going to get better
know how to open and
forget again until tonight
wake up feet wake up
and belly slide your legs
if you are lucky enough
and with both legs together
from the edge of the bed
up and try not to be a rag but be
about to plant down some roots
with the bottoms of
lucky enough to have
your feet down like getting
red filling your soles
filling your seat with
won’t think about other people
you should be standing
should be seeing all the things
your floor if you are lucky enough
before your eyes forget
turn over
but now
they will
say wake up
knees and chin
between
to have
hang them
and push
a tree
graze
your feet
a rug
up
swimming
weight
seeing
and now
there were
to have
to open
forget how
Open
No
your eyes
not
toes
and ear
the sheets
sheets
loose
your torso
that's
your rug
if you are
Press
is the color
up
you
Now
you
encrusting
a floor
Now
Amanda Killian is a poet living in Harlem. Her work has been featured on Everyday Genius, Yes Poetry, Prelude, Queen Mob's Teahouse, and Luna Luna Magazine. She has also been published in The Opiate and The Broome Street Review. She studies poetry at Brooklyn College.