a garden variety nebula, blooming against my teeth.
[Jesus’ best jokes]
A man tells me he hears Jesus’ best jokes
from the red, sexual moths lying prone for him in a nameless season.
All my clocks chime the same tender pun.
[Rilke wearing green]
I tally the frequency of my tears.
I turn them into a clergy that confirms
my soul is green, is Rilke, wearing green,
Every angel is terrifying
First for the plum to the hydrangea—then incorrigible,
I officiate the wedding of my dog to the
neighbor’s sweet mixed breed.
I marry bone density to brainjoy.
I marry novelty to that shipwreck.
I smoke clove cigarettes
on the fire escape, thighs hot on the metal.
A cardinal’s eyes are shutters;
he chirps in italics.
Emphasis or integration?
Laura Page is a poet and artist from the Pacific Northwest. Her work has appeared in many publication, including Rust + Moth, The Fanzine, Crab Creek Review, Tinderbox Poetry Journal, Maudlin House, TINGE, and others. Her chapbook, “epithalamium,” was the winner of Sundress Publications 2017 chapbook contest. Laura is founding editor of the poetry journal, Virga.