the insides of cheeks are woven
with cotton. the insides of cake
are woven with roots. when we put
our hands in cake, it snows dead.
it freezes houses in our cup
together, houses i dug through
water for. these are the things
i wanted to tell you. roots are curls
but frozen for us and snow is a
hard fog street we live on now.
itís stupid to try to make plants
with snow, but i thought the clumps
might unclump there into shoots
that fog sing. seee -ooooooo,
seeeee- yeeeerrrrrrr. when your
scared, you have a little dezrt
buzz. roots are in the horse grove
now canít you see iím working.
come put torsos in my arms iíll
hold them hold them like coins and
white linebackers for us.


Carrie Lorig is in the MFA program at the University of Minnesota. She co-runs the reading series, Our Flow is Hard. Russ Woods is in Chicago. He co-edits Love Symbol Press and the reading series Poetry Made of Diamonds. Their poems about roots are published or forthcoming in Diagram, iO: A Journal of New American Poetry, Radioactive Moat, Mixed Fruit, and Denver Quarterly.