in a state of cure    

I hear blue     

fat as a harp

marbled murrelet fledges on moss     

tiny moat    .    feathery tog     

over the din and dim     

even lace smells blue   

on the lap of the Pleiades'    

ancient fart     

don't gild the lily

the monad did in diamond mint     

artfully afraid of a curse

and hate over heat     

fills the gap    .    the heart rat

until you die or pant   

or die panting dryly

I hear your rising

ballooning in the room     

our kin rinks     

caught in a  snow fence     

a wish the heart makes

the hope of doves wrinkles    

on a tar trip the id crept     

sound all the place names:

lace harbor    .    goat's gap    .    diamond mine

rice or lily?     can we divvy the void?

mind's din (art)    

we're not going anymore     

the walls pant   

lilies in the snow fence     

ovoid and lacy

mound togged in a phantom map     

heat's gap

monad deep in numinous night     

picture a tar trap

with me in it     

a death with you in it     

how I want to

flip and wean     

marbled murrelet in flight   

tongue hooked to gape


Lisa Fink is the author of the chapbook Her Disco (dancing girl press, 2013). She lives in Portland, OR.