Joan Harvey


I like to fill my head with noise
I see life better with a soundtrack
I’ve got a new body
Double the size
I’ve got your smell on my mind.

I’m dreaming of encounters
That I never dreamed of
I’m calling hotlines with my voice in heat.
On the airwaves
Stories of radioactive kittens
Purring under the high-pitched sun.

We are losing our mangroves
And abortion doctors
I watch you unflowering
Smelling of loss of longing of stun.

Roots of trees holding shellfish
Pelicans diving
In this kind of heatwave
We’ve got no options
Hearts pounding over
The low hump of earth.


My vast experience lifting paralyzed men
Lifting men paralyzed
Lifing into the bar
This bar this dive
This no bullshit no swill
Never ending drink dive
At the other end of town.

No Shit. If they give you shit
Throw them out
Throw them out
Sucks to be you
Ten times heavier than you thought
Lifting paralyzed men
Even if you unpack half
You can’t leave your memories
At home. Everybody knows.

No bullshit, no swill
Cheap vodka, pork chops
Blur of pour drinks
Blur of wait tables
Blur of grease and nail parings
Steal from the drawer
Steal from your vast experience
Lifting paralyzed men.

Joan Harvey's fiction and poetry have appeared in Painted Bride Quarterly, The Tampa Review, Bomb, Another Chicago Magazine, Osiris, Danse Macabre, Global City Review, Mountain Gazette, Pangolin Papers, Inkblot, Prism, Kindred Spirit, Blue Light Red Light, Mississippi Mud, To: A Journal of Poetry, Prose and The Visual Arts, Fiction Monthly, The Distillery, Artisan, Visions, West Wind Review, The Sixteenth Anthology, Fuel, 96 Inc., Between C & D (Penguin anthology), Worcester Review, Sliding Uteri, PO, the Santa Barbara Independent and several other journals. She has won prizes for both poetry and fiction, and her work has been read on the radio in Manhattan and Aspen, Colorado. She is a graduate of the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics and has translated the poetry of Ingeborg Bachmann.

previous page     contents     next page



Post a Comment

<< Home