Thursday, April 9, 2015

a poem by emily brandt


Each night the coyotes howl but only
for fifteen seconds. That is not enough time
to record them. It is only enough time to grab
the recorder and open the window and really I'd rather
just listen anyway. I like it here at ManWorld.

There is a bed of flowers. There is sky.
And the squirrels on the roof only keep me up
a little too late. I'm a little too tired. It's like
I've run out of things to say, like I'm clear
and don't need anything but these animals,
this wind. It's a feeling that will pass fast and then
I'll be back to heartbreak and electric lights.

Seven blankets are not enough to keep me lying
down. I need more chaos in life. I need a broom
and a straightjacket, a thigh and some elegant lighting.
A man would be concerned with beauty or power.
Me too! But I've also got a different list
and I put it somewhere you'll never find.
God forbid. And yes, I am still interested.

This poem appears in the chapbook ManWorld (dancing girl press).

Emily Brandt is the author of three chapbooks: Sleeptalk or Not At All (forthcoming from Horse Less Press), ManWorld (dancing girl press) and Behind Teeth (Full Court Books). Her poems have appeared in Sink Review, Coconut, H_NGM_N, The Atlas Review, and other journals. She earned her MFA from New York University where she facilitated the Veterans Writing Workshop. Emily is a co-founding editor of No, Dear, Web Acquisitions Editor for VIDA, and a contributing writer for Weird Sister. She lives and teaches in Brooklyn.

1 comment:

  1. The chromosomes are pointing in the right direction . . . and even the coyotes are convincing timed. Yes! --William Clay