GRACE O’CONNOR / 2 WORKS
COMA [ , ]
disrobe the earthy weight of where you are [coma—I mean eyelash , bird leg , interruption , ]
and how I’m doing nothing for you except
I look at the word: coma [I mean breath , or eyelash (again) , oar , ]
It’s everywhere, littering my sentences,
especially cluttering my images of you—coma[orange peel , finger nail , sliver of skin on the knife-edge , ]
Looks like breath, like stitches, like [the cup’s crack , breath (again) , corner rounding , I mean coming , I mean coming to , ]
the curve of unused hands.[You can cross and uncross your legs now ]
I mean[kome—Greek: hair of the head , the comet’s tail , first hair on fire , I mean the first hair a seed releases into the earth , I mean fetal position , I mean born for , I mean against , a steering wheel , or like a worm pulling like sweat through a pore , ]
it looks a lot like a worm pulling
like sweat through a pore[I mean breaking from the deepest sleep]
in the earth.
OVERLAP LAPPING FRAMES SOFT SET RESET ALL S E T, ALIVE
Grace O’Connor grew alongside pine trees in the Catskills, New York. Currently, she is a rhetoric, composition, and teaching of English PhD student at the University of Arizona. She has work forthcoming with Rogue Agent Journal and The Adirondack Review.