Leigh Herrick

fractal # 1

I smell you exactly and inexactly saying smell you until fracture eases until bends are skylined phrases and a nocturne of day-lit stars speak tongued emissions long gone in participatory purples and greens as blue blared sense of forest pools colored through me and I am grown again called root of and thrusting puncture all trunks of self all signs nearing the center’s coronal glow and now corpuscular unwrapping this fully lyric death is breath in drowning is the downed particle of flails that at this ingress emerges less woven fully ventricular the lunged past all illusion when at the end it begins

Every Drop

Every song every voice every speck in the hour of dust drying every throat every day
every [p]age every poem written in Night every sh[r]ift every rupturing Dawn every inch of mitigation each suckling essence under the influence of insolence in rays of every second made dread into which is written the word fade      every grain of it every flesh of flesh plundered every ounce of stripped every last gasp every fractured smile every agree -]me[a]nt to end every line in extinction as every act in the Against as sunken language emptied without tongue as declaration in every split as every amendment of corruptible verbs in chipped infinitives signaling the next tech[no/logical] tread stringing each fuzz of muzzled fruit to modified gardens’ Second Comings that every hand every insect every outbreak flare-up bomb every shadowed month in the seat of When knows every
infraction’s tepid reductionist sore scored for all ec[h]o systems lured to the halo’s trend Against every delta of sound Against every island of river every rushing from between the tell-t]al[e]l mimes of burnt and bruise-beaten grass in the trickled-past of it become the run-on become the libational anti of pouring down become aggrieved ocean becoming coral in-reefed contusion while the grays of it gray above the coelacanth’s ancient gaze as the seven billionth born to sup is consummately emptied into
                                              for the recurring quote of it hath offspring as the non-spring warnings call and all of it even this hand written for you whether you believe or not every bit of it w/rung out to Night is yours to say yes only yes and yes again
for the W[h]ole of It that is now

only situated in


Leigh Herrick is a poet, writer and recording artist whose work has appeared in a variety of print and electronic journals, including Big Bridge, Caliban Online, ditch, Jacket, Journal of the Motherhood Initiative, Omega 7, Skidrow Penthouse, and others. Her two CDs are Just War (2004) and Monocle Man (2009). Herrick's first book of poems, Etiolating When, from which the above two poems are taken, is due out in May 2012 from Howling Dog Press.
Contact: www.LeighHerrick.com
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