TREMBLING / AGAIN / BULBS / BULBS

Oliver Strand

05.07.17

yellow-blur

TREMBLING


Thinner part
or center 
to 
green 

dished outer surface with concentric. 
Splitting into two curtains. 

Brothers and sisters.

To turn 

the opposite side through. Trembling cold.

 





AGAIN 


Have only seen the stain. Fetched something, 
billowing. About 

to be held by me. Keeps not being held by. Not wanting to. Kept not wanting to 
       hold. To be capable of. To hold. To hold it again. To hold it. Tops of

the bulbs "make" 
the entire form arrive - a pause, a substitution, a preparation. One 

more. Segmented. In the open. One. One more. One more violin. I 

should. Decorations.

 





BULBS 


I'm thinking about a ring of throats. All the flags the same height, seeing a ceiling 
       fan from the side: rotating pouches throbbed and flapped where a smile 
       covered a yawn. More familiar to me than what I remember. 
Where? Overlapping? 

I'm thinking about two throats touching. It looks like an animal struggling under 
       a gate. (Used it. Would be. Soften. Thanks. Already? Here. Here. Spray 
       decorated chest-on-frame, 1690-1700. To. Hovering if 
emptying if 
I'm flattening it flattening it if blurring yellow 
open rectangle unpitched 
unpitched.)

 





BULBS 


"What did you add? What did you add to?” How many, what did . . . but I 
more let's no an egg of people afraid of ourselves I don't and people I love    
       what do you want to "have" happen to it? 
Compared to what? 
Where did someone go where they didn't have to ask for anything back 
       and what did they want me to do for them? Was anyone all right? 

We'll go together the first time. 
We'll go together the first time. 

"Who are you?" 
"I don't know. I never met you before." 
All 
get to . . . born 

with a little. Is called "on the sky". The letter no letter can follow arrived 
       on the inside/outside: listened I 
apart once it starts to 
"you're making it worse". Born, biting, have to, shrank . . . hm . . . 
I remember asking the same question over and over but not what the 
       question is or was. How should I have started?

—————–

Oliver Strand lives in Rhode Island, where he works as a woodworker. His writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Anomalous, Poor Claudia, the Brooklyn Review, Spoon River Poetry Review and Synecdoche.