Two poems: “music” and “clothes”

music

pinpricks of light of sound of spinning angry
in the rain malachi and i never danced or didn’t
know what to call it if there is no music no steps
then is it dancing in the forest body on body
breath on breath prickle of pine needles prickle
of tingles in the spine the groin little groan
little muscle a head on a shoulder by a river
a river in a body near the shoulder of the road
and the mouth of the river and the shoulder
of the other and the rhythm within pulsing
pulsing like the old wolf’s steady heartbeat

 

clothes

the fog which stitches us in seams us makes us seem
unseemly clasping clasps sewing me into this old blue dress
my love is a knot is all tied up o safely-pinned body unravel
unwind hot southern wind pick me up and deliver me
with flowers from evil to grace blind girl blind cat
can’t see your hand in front of your face i keep thinking
somebody will save me but it’s hard enough to make it
to the store around here let alone cut coupons
let alone find redemption or a shirt that buttons and is stainless

  • Nicole Callihan

    About

    Nicole Callihan was born in Hickory, North Carolina, raised in Oklahoma, and lives in Brooklyn, New York. Her books include SuperLoop and Henry River Mill Village, as well as, the chapbooks: Downtown, The Deeply Flawed Human, and A Study in Spring.