2 Poems by Alexandra Weiss

Where I’ll Take You When You Come to Town

our scratch marks glow under moonlight
like the penguin lamp on your bedside table

among the crumbling rocks
flowers on a grave

eroded terraces bridle
a seething mist abyss
the ultimate sham rodeo

their drowned cousins hint
at the crags of some geologic angkor wat
hidden behind seven orientalizing veils
the sky melts in the lake

as i would have
with the spurned snow
replicated its pastels in the courtyard

the metropolis, glimmering
pouts as its ragged breaths
render the night more diaphanous

the fireflies in its airspace
lazily flitting slalom
through chicago’s red fangs
accentuate like reflections on sclera

five geese hit the water
at once, the wakes evenly
extending invitations and the whole
honking cacophony commenced
to jump in the lake


“#519 Orange” image by Flickr user Mikael Miettinen


you redden and freeze
numb, you shatter easy
peace eagles
birds of prey blown to bits
down pours the down
circling habitually
maybe hoping that by
continuing the trajectory
the connecting threads
connective tissue
cartilage and sinew
might resurface
seanced from the grey
breaking pillows’ necks
on the spines of the sears tower
the dust like dust in sun
swinging intangibly in the faraway trees
stars hanging by little threads
rushing by the window in a parallax
like grit in the roiling sea
the past returns incompletely
to the cottonwoods slamming repeatedly
to the ground
the past is fractured but
it brought cold fear into us
like it used to

IMG_0938Alexandra Weiss is a student at the University of Chicago. Before that she lived on the longest dead end road in Los Angeles. She has been previously published in Haggard and Halloo and writes for South Side Weekly. She is trying to write fiction, we’ll see what happens.