Anne Gorrick
She went
into the slippery woods to find Iceland
Remember the feminine pronoun ‘she’
like riding unshod horses over slippery ice
She also noticed the new sheets weren’t very soft
They chanted and went into trances in which they
cut down the “Glorious Meting Wood”
also known as the world tree
She sees it, but she just doesn’t see it, you know?
I typed very slowly, my nervous hands fumbling over the slippery touch screen
She is the right person to look for
Let´s go to the pool
The service elevator was unsafe
wet from pool guests going back and forth
concrete and slippery
Well, you know, we’re talking about a world where guys go down into the mines, chewing coca
To blame oneself for a fit of coughing
to go in a specified way
to go all wrong
to break into shivers
She stroked the hair back from her eyes
The snaps were
so that I remembered how everything went
so I could put it back together again
Also, a being who travels in the shape of an animal
I also go the cinema quite often
Then I realized we can go on and on with the symbolic language in myths
During a recent “Gravity Surfing” workshop, I was startled to see a man
He skied in the snowy woods, holding his bow in one hand, wearing northern winter clothes
Pretty soon we were travelling over fences and through woods
Our gardens are dark with minimal plantings
Doubt must be mentioned here
A bonfire, wood, oil lamp, candles will purify space and destroy many kings
The king offered to get someone to fight in single combat on his behalf
He had a wood-axe, a sharp one on a long shaft, in his hand, but he was lightly clothed
DOG FLU, ICE BATH go off like a bomb
Sticky eels
Acting covers him
leaving himself in the pocket to reach into your wallet
a wallet I think up constantly
She was transformed into a scholarly journal
How they engage in their grim journeys
You reach into the hole and find an intricately carved dagger
In the woods to the north
you can see what looks like an old stone well
The cave wall feels moist
Years of struggle and poverty have taken their toll
Go in. To the kitchen table. Alone.
Looking like she’d visited hell and was still slippery with wet leaves
now mulching in the warm sun
“You better find something to eat before night comes!”
“We need to know your birthdate in order to send you age appropriate updates!”
So slippery and fine
“She is regal in her horribleness”
I’m puzz-e-ling
Your dress is red and oh so slippery
in thick woods for your sake I’d gulp drops of lead
She’s quiet because she doesn’t want to bother with the fake moaning
Azure daughter
share, but accidentally, irrefutably termed
Every chunk of wood floats nonchalantly through
A woman gathered the atoms
She drank and ate and inhaled
and the woman assembled the prayer in her body
There will be more ambushes if you fail to get ahold of Bjorn
Sled runner, hurt, interior life’s breath, ladled, prodded, oared
Then we watch cartoons
He goes out to buy a carrot and some petroleum jelly
Don’t worry, we’ll find new beaches
She told me that she used to get 100 krónur pieces for mandarins
She refers to a specific kind of bowl that is made of wood and has a lid
because it was slippery
Ghosts in their shells, thrushes
restored varnished exteriors
a sword tempered with poison, not continuous, scattered
Go in loose
Anne Gorrick is a poet and visual artist.
She is the author of six books of poetry including most recently: An Absence So Great and Spontaneous it is Evidence of Light (forthcoming in 2018 from the Operating System); The Olfactions: Poems on Perfume (BlazeVOX Books, 2017); A’s Visuality (BlazeVOX, 2015); and I-Formation (Book Two) (Shearsman Books, 2012). She collaborated with artist Cynthia Winika to produce a limited edition artists’ book, ““Swans, the ice,” she said,” funded by the Women’s Studio Workshop in Rosendale, NY and the New York Foundation for the Arts. She also co-edited (with poet Sam Truitt) In|Filtration: An Anthology of Innovative Writing from the Hudson River Valley (Station Hill Press, 2016).