3 poems

by Marie Claire Bryant

Marie Claire Bryant is a poet from Nashville, Tennessee. She currently lives with three humans and five chickens down a dusty road in Nambe', New Mexico. She co-runs the Nambe' Mill House residency program. She has some books: Liver Poems (Silk House Publishing, 2017) and Say My Last Name Softly (Holy Page Records, 2016), and was also published in the 2017 Called Back Books sampler. She likes her eggs over-medium in a bowl of butter. Find her: www.nambemillhouse.com

There is a lot

only corpses in Nashville know

Weird year of

Look-at-the-beautiful-thorn, love

Look eat it, wave bye

to it

Nashville, all my monoliths, it ain’t fair

this quietude

when everyone is picking,

canoeing

Two kinds of people I swear

Me / You

Less sky, less still between scissors,

I mean skyscrapers

 

Stand up look baby its

Not raining, but the air

is substantial

There is a moment

you begin to love

the color of dirt

When someone you love

covers you in dirt

 

With a history of butting heads,

you can imagine

how the skull evolved, thickened

Small bumps

became branches

described as antlers

I visit the coy pond

where he released

his ex-girlfriend’s turtle

 

His mother sent me home

with pancake mix

She told me how

black strap molasses

simply cures

arthritis,

The prescribed dose

is never enough

 

I told my mother

to tell my Aunt Mary