By Catherine Strisik
I am naked against
this stone
canyon meaning
the poverty
and generosity of stars
meaning
my craves
now silver now
mica now
to the tilt
of my
abandonment
he has no syllables
no sounds
no sigh for.
ME. ANd.
And then I say because you are green lacewing
and I am hammered pole and you flail translucent
wings with veins and I carve
self-portrait with small frame
bolt-slender of pitch and dry cells
and pity
and pause and breath and pause and breath and you
say but I am metamorphic and I say I am.
Catherine Strisik, award winning poet, author of The Mistress (3: A Taos Press, 2016) New Mexico/AZ Book Award for Poetry 2017; Thousand-Cricket Song (Plain View Press 2010, 2nd printing, 2016); Insectum Gravitis (Main Street Rag, forthcoming); co-founder/co-editor Taos Journal of International Poetry & Art; nominated for a Pushcart Prize; numerous publications include Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion, Drunken Boat, Connotation Press: An Online Artifact, Tusculum Review, Poet Lore; teaches poetry workshops in northern New Mexico.