Lisa russ spaar biography of martin

Would rather be lying there? No.
Though my pillow is a backwards-wound watch.
Cream linen of another country
where I lay in troth with you, hands pressed
...

Espaliered tree of my quieting ovaries,
arched in their lightless cloister,
& his milky seed's circuitous passage there:
...

I'm a sucker for a gothic ending:
for example, this opal brooch of sky,
like milk tinged with blood
...

Ancestral slosh, black forest
of bridge trestles, syrupy rivers of South Jersey,
O Lutheran, O German School, O being Shunned
...

Lisa russ spaar biography of martin

Bated ruby, guru occult,
you show yourself to us
after we— in gambit of breed,
of anchorite, of wind-thieved
...

Like a balcony, seized from behind,
held up by gods no one trusts,
deity of pseudonym, of crush, ransom notes,
ropes, lies.

Sometimes abandoned
...

When my daughter fights on the phone
with her boyfriend, even her side
of the story unintelligible as my pain -
...

Tantric, this cobwebbed plot,
fish-net s