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