Olivia Vande Woude
Listen to the poem below:
Wears a Nike hat
Scar on his left wrist
3 centimeters long.
Inserts the key
of a chain with a yellow pig dangling
5 carefully serrated pieces of gold.
We are a lot of people in this country,
I am from the Northern part.
Likes the quiet
says it’s good for old people.
Told him I do too.
That’s good, that’s a great feature.
Yellow wool lined teeth
Camel colored shirt, striped
Coffee and cigarette breath
on the floor.
Clock says …Read article
The last train is waiting at the station
With all tension, all motion stilled
On this night of grey- ice, hoar frost,
Sometimes it is enough just to exist.
On the longer journeys time stops
Is as fixed as every station clock
Under starlight, when nothing stirs.
Perhaps you were the green eyed girl
As if weary of life’s travails
As if weary of all your lives?
Briefly we shared
Our parallel lines.
Perhaps on some other track
We know each other?
Have shared our dreams
And sit together
Watching the snow flurries …Read article
I said you were like a horse who was an old zippered suitcase & when you asked why, I said it was because when I was massaging the musculature under your skin, imagining how those parts must have once performed astounding feats & carouseled from caravan to caravan, I thought about what must have happened out there under the billow’s blow because I could feel your muscles flexing for the suspense of a suspended fall in the shroud of a shadow of a circus whisper,
& your nerves —those bundles of fiber— told my prying fingers of …Read article