photo (gram)
a sunwritten receipt
conscious and unconscious nests
sensory-neural impulse interactions among
bio-geo-eco-chemo-astro- and cultural forms. It exerts
the immediacy of a photo (gram), light sensitive
photograph paper compiling one of a kind,
camera-less molecules, light interactions with
an as yet unnamed untamed something
that piece of
poem becoming,
Amy’s San Diego essay
for Amy King
Each particle has a gazillion sides, each cell
a bell. How does death smell?
salt makes the cell, the tongue, to shrink.
There's a wound
somewhere, that hurts each
time it is touched
or not, touched, but yes touch
that the words may, wrestled burn.
Donna Fleischer is an award-winning poet and author of three chapbooks in both open and Japanese-derived forms. Her poems appear in print and online journals and anthologies worldwide, and are forthcoming in EOAGH, Exit Strata, Kō, Lilliput Review, Naugatuck River Review, and the anthology Poets for Living Waters: An International Response to the 2010 BP Oil Disaster in the Gulf of Mexico (BlazeVOX Books). She curates content daily for poetry and for the earth at her blog word pond.
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