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Jess Rose Nov 2011
At first there was only dark
And floors
There were missing light bulbs
And painted light switches
There was a flaking bathtub
There was nowhere to sit
At first there were only leaves on the porch
And dust on the windows.
There were missing drawers
There was only this and more

And then there were some plants
        In plastic pots
And a sun through open shutters
And finches and cats in the alley
There were rag rugs
And polished bits of trees
And two fish swam lazy in their bowls
And then
     There was me
Or someone very much like me

And it was good
Jess Rose Apr 2011
I know it is
Spring again
When my
****** in
Pushed out
Over again
And gentle
Of the city
Are louder
And then
Pushed out
****** In
Jess Rose Nov 2010
Tonight I am writing a poem about waking up tomorrow
To see if my car had been re-ticketed for expired plates
To see if the traffic will, like the weather,
Be unusually temperate for this time of year
To see if there is broken glass in the parking lot
Spray paint tags on our shop door

Tonight I am writing a poem about waking up tomorrow
To see if the leaves are falling
If the sky is still, like the people
Hanging onto fall
To see the skyline, the cloud front over the water

I am writing a poem tonight
So that I can wake up tomorrow
And remember to remember
To love it all
Jess Rose Nov 2010
Today I will not
Build any furniture
I will not paint any murals
I will not lathe wet wood
Or pound out steel
I will not sand or glue or clamp
Or sew or surge or hand tuft

I will not see a show tonight
I will not go to a museum
I will not even read
But I will
Will myself
To write these things
I will not do
Jess Rose Jun 2010
I was born to the month of the
Roaring lamb, or the woolen lion
Depending on which way you turned your head
3:42 p.m.
Like somehow that time, my placement
On the clock face
Was the most notable bookmark
I do not know how the weather was
Behaving, raining or snowing
Depending on the mood
But I know the weak March sun was shinning
In on my labored mother
Past the slight warmth of noon
Before the obtuse chill of dusk
I came into the world balanced on that sun
Pale spring
Aged winter
The lion to my left
The lamb to my right
Because I came head first

The day I was born
I landed on top of the water
And was captured in the tension there
Between two things
Balanced on my sun
Marching forward
Jess Rose May 2010
The pounding of the drum
was sheets of white paper
Each clap falling to the floor
Settling slowly
Like geese alight to water
We were there for this landing
Nosily, gracefully
The geese were

The drumming of the drum
Was a shell around us all
And we all spiraled in
Till the casements of the
windows shook
Till throughout the basement
And up the stairs
Was the sound
Lifted up again
Like the geese
And the paper pushers
And the polished



Jess Rose May 2010
I’ve seen colors melt, colors mold over, colors who stick to the sides of
Other colors
I’ve seen colors which soak to the quick of wood and skin, ones that spill over
Or dry like deserts
I’ve seen colors that congeal like the living, I’ve seen the same ones mixed to death
I’ve seen colors pool, colors rust and colors boil

I’ve seen colors that don’t read maps
Colors that overrun, overturn, overlove their neighbors
And ones that play well in sand
I’ve seen colors that drink cocktails, drink water, drink blood
Colors that get bored, colors that get sexed
I’ve seen colors ripped from the earth
Seen them ghost to other places

I’ve seen colors give up, every time, waiting for air, for shelter,
For Godot
I’ve seen colors grow cold like science
Grow loud like a flag unfurling
Grow up, move out, move on
I’ve seen colors stuck in between things
These same colors fill empty spaces
Fill vision, fill cups of coffee
I’ve seen colors tell white lies
They aren’t white
They are happy

And they aren’t here for us
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