What you said
What you said about the family reunion
Is exactly what you said when I begged
Cheese from sheep or cow for the froth
This narrative they keep heavy forging
We survive all electric categorizations
Shrink the story of three cities for these
Hydrogen continues to be two parts
The weather breathes a tortoise wind
Walk against a chirping gusting billiard
And trees for each color each hew
the cannoli myth
avoiding the ricotta
of giddy gossip
pull the Atlantic east
describing the grass
the pallet disowns
Contradicting snake tests weed the festering from the ﬂoor.
If you look up you’ll see a slanted linoleum sky.
But, if you look down, you’ll ﬁnd your foot ﬂesh has decomposed.
Leaving a skull foot thought walk where the ground used to be.
The Season of Okra in Question
Steel clenching into an aborted inﬂuenza percolating an updated vaccine.
Daylight assuming the position of gazing mulls into a sunﬂower waste.
We call this the winter of famine Okra. Will the printers press the ink?
It is the question. The question an answer takes.
Where will these vapid beings muster?
What transforms friction into a viola of complacency?
Is this the hunger sisters feel when offered a gilded rack of shade?
Or is this a tousled arboretum funneled into a mange of months?
Liz Mariani lives in Vermont. Her latest poems have been published in BlazeVOX, The Buffalo News, Artvoice, The Brooklyner, Fortunates and as part of The Tea Leaves Collection of Broadsides in collaboration with artist, Michael Morgulis.