Golden Boa

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Your catholic habit escapes
like black rabbits out the gate.

They ruffle the pale minty grasses.
Your gaze slithers up my calves.

It makes me shed like a yellow boa.
Skin as thin as paper falls below on sandy loam.

You sever my head on blood-tarnished terrain;
reduce me to golden remains.

An obsidian rabbit’s fate would be another,
for your discerning eyes fear form before color.

Vessels

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The ocean and the sky had faded.
We searched both with piercing eyes
for what churns in the tides,
what stirs within them, agitated:

The sunken ships and sorrow pale
of sailors who had cast their boats
into the very sea they sail
but vessels fill and fail to float.

Oulipost Interview #1

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Ouliposter

1. WHAT EXCITES YOU ABOUT OULIPOST?
This will be my my first time writing a poem each day and writing for NaPoWriMo. My mother used to participate in it when I was much younger and she always enjoyed her experience. I am excited for the challenge and for the heap of resulting poems.

2. WHAT, IF ANYTHING, SCARES YOU ABOUT OULIPOST?
I don’t believe there’s anything to fear. Is there something I’m not being told?

3. HAVE YOU WRITTEN EXPERIMENTAL OR FOUND POETRY BEFORE? IF SO, TELL US ABOUT IT.
I’ve taken a few courses in poetry and I have always tried to break free from the mold with my assignments. This April will be more experimental and more found than anything I’ve done before.

4. WHAT NEWSPAPER WILL SERVE AS YOUR SOURCE TEXT?
The Seattle Times.

5. WHO’S YOUR SPIRIT OULIPIAN?
If anyone can inspire me to create with found objects, it’s Marcel Duchamp.