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Stasis by Elisabeth Horan

One finger.

One finger in the dark


Enters. Does

Wonders. Finds


Stasis. Finds

Water. Makes.


New, old reservoirs.

One tongue. I’ve


Wondered, could I do

What a miracle claims, make


Seismic my hips, make quake

Tremble membranes, hip.


To heel

Brain to toe,


And words spill

Ah, oh.

They mean little except

For a gnashing. A status quo.


What I mean is that your finger feels

Like an impregnating of my skin


It's quick, silvery, like a little fish

Uncatchable


she's too quick.

She's un-killable


Net her, keep her close

Run your finger down her spinal


Column. Hold her by her lower jaw

See the red innards


Feels her ribs fight for you sir

Her air is your parade sir


Knock her out before u eat her.

Don't eat her alive.


Even if it is your will.

One bite.


Finger the flesh.

It's light now.


It's water.

It's wet


A slippery mess

You do what you do.


Find stasis.

Be full.




Elisabeth Horan is an imperfect creature from Vermont advocating for animals, children and those suffering alone and in pain - especially those ostracized by disability and mental illness. She is Editor in Chief at Animal Heart Press, and Co-Editor at Ice Floe Press. She has several chaps and collections out at Bone & Ink Press, Fly on the Wall Press, Twist It Press, Rhythm and Bones Press, Cephalo Press, and Animal Heart Press. Her newest collections: Just to the Right of the Stove, with Hedgehog Poetry Press, and Alcoholic Betty, with Fly on the Wall Poetry Press are forthcoming in 2020. She is a poetry mentor to many up and coming brilliant poets, and proud momma to Peter and Thomas. She recently earned her MA from SNHU, and her MFA from Lindenwood University. She is a 2018 Pushcart Nominee and a 2018 and 2019 Best of Net Nominee.

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