Naomi Buck Palagi
Planning: Chorale
Naomi Buck Palagi has work published in journals such as Spoon River Review, Otoliths, Moria, Eleven Eleven, Blue Fifth Review and Requited. Additionally, she has two chapbooks, Silver Roof Tantrum (dancing girl press, 2010), and Darkness in the Tent (Dusie Kollectiv 5, 2011).
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Planning: Chorale
Voice 1 small cents or elephants whispering through the dog days of night, pigeons, high on the precipices of possibility and wonder, we we we ostracize humble peotone of the block printer in aster or phlox. if this meant to me forgetting forgetting elephant forgetting homing. shielded by daylight, wielding pointilism, points for not more than this. to that tune, for more than a mile, a smile, rest I do not care for you, and you may climb into the brook, rocks falls no more carrying the white, and worm-ridden pet. paints. herself, or me, her sister and all I can consider is the madonna that slipped from my grasp and the one ostriched, we are, for remembering these. took on water to the source this was the Beginning. | Voice 2 wimbledon weatherbe and if this meant to me if this meant to me the beginning not frost, not cold, not even health but The pigeons fly circles over you, it is ending. Wishing doesn't make it so and pigeon or pigeon for not homing. gashes, we have all shied points earned like the ostrich in the sand, the dancing as if climbing from the canyon, rest as you wish. streams burble mossed as with snake, falls no more. no horse tongue on the whiskey barrel, no metal trucks an elephant says not all of us are sisters, she grasps the paint brush, she she paints me, her sister, or here we are, homing, again our heads in the sand crafted by two of our hands at the brook, the snake she jumped. in the dog days of night we mineraled from the underground, found followed so steep it was reversed and this was the Beginning. | Voice 3 Beginning. I have Beginning and parcels last til we elephant, not not wishing, not I stay, elephanted. elephant ostracized for not homing. we have all shied from the mare with high strung ostrich, gone to pasture. Fortunes lost dancing as if climbing from the canyon, as if as you wish. or clay. The water metal trucks she paints herself, she grasps the paintbrush, she paints our heads in the sand crafted by two of our hands at the brook, she jumped. took on water to the source, the land was the Beginning. |
Naomi Buck Palagi has work published in journals such as Spoon River Review, Otoliths, Moria, Eleven Eleven, Blue Fifth Review and Requited. Additionally, she has two chapbooks, Silver Roof Tantrum (dancing girl press, 2010), and Darkness in the Tent (Dusie Kollectiv 5, 2011).
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