Brooke Ellsworth

WATER HOUR

I forgot to eat again today
and will forget tomorrow.
Water Hour

Closes Codex Artaud (1972) that big old monster, which is EVERYDAY because
who am I kidding. I line up

the fish you catch on the sand
where there’s room to grow
de-snaked

the stupidest question you get
is if you’re lonely

during the mobilizing seconds after
smoking behind the sugarhouse
there was

so much life ahead, this was Water Hour:

A hiker
who tripped over your stove-pipe sticking out of the hill. Upon
further survey the authorities uncovered the rubber membrane, a
tube attached to a jug for a shower. The precedent

for the direct message

1) Big Island
2) Catskills
3) Squam Swamp
4) Atlanta

 
**
 

ERASERHEAD

I’m thinking about the dead seal again

This is one
pissed off rock
I thought as
I leaned
closer
Come
and look at
this rock
I said
Followed
you back to the
dead seal
I am a dead roof
Look you
said
and held out
a piece of
its spine
I am a
man
dragging
a wheelchair

 
**
 

NEAR FANTASY

The photograph: A tiny gilded integrated circuit found in the core of the most
exquisite snowflake

The core of the
day
discharged
from the stem
I am loyal to my
fuel as I cart around my cunt
A big
shrieks & grease hunt
Please, stay still there in
the pool of light
Stay still there
This family isn’t
going
to forget
itself
 
**
 

BROOKE ELLSWORTH is author of the forthcoming poetry collection, Serenade, from Octopus Books in 2017. She lives and writes in Peekskill, NY. For more information: brookeellsworth.com.