Are Floods, Every Room
By Lauren Haldeman / Issue 12
At the far end of the field: urn-tree & kudzu bloom. No one
will notice. Not the moss, not the little pink eardrums.
I have discovered my own evaporation point. Little mass
of mud-slick, me, and you turn the doorknob. Come in.
This is a house of fragmentation, this is the earnest roll
of suckle-sap. Slow down, wait.
Weather pantomimes outside. The windows are draped with
periodic charts. Wind slides in, white flags & neon fists.
Bootleg, gum-spirit, bottlebrush. Begin.
LAUREN HALDEMAN is the author of the books Instead of Dying (2017 Colorado Prize for Poetry), Calenday (2014), and The Eccentricity is Zero (2014). Her work has appeared in Tin House, The Colorado Review, Fence, and Tupelo Quarterly, among others. A comic book artist and poet, she’s received the Colorado Prize for Poetry, an Iowa Arts Fellowship, a Sustainable Arts Foundation Award and fellowships from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. You can find her online at http://laurenhaldeman.com.
