christie ann reynolds
from halo in retrograde
At 14 I nearly fell from Batman the Ride.
Too slim for the claw that was supposed to pin
me down. I locked eyes with an elderly lady on
I don’t know
if she thought about me after that.
I did not want to mourn with everyone else when
Jackson died. When Anna Nicole died. When
When Mickey Rooney.
Success can be measured by how nervous you
become around a large group of people who are
Paul Walker I mourned for.
A man driving so many cars reminds me of my
Goodness can make you sick.
The subway is the best place to feel it.
To remember the people
you’ll never know again.
I know the arctic is beautiful even though I
have never been.
It is desire that makes us seek pleasure in
everything from cake to bed.
I can never be as powerful as my dead aunt, her
Goodness cannot be lukewarm but maybe
the woman who helped me
when I fell three bus steps down.
Shelter, food, clothing, water, love. To survive is to
Walk a strict line to the source.
I walk a strict line. I right
all wrongs by drinking water, so much water.
Can love be retained
It is an imposition to put me in a crowd. Places
teeth are noticed more than poems.
Beauty can destroy.
I am the heir of stampede eyes.
Heir, collective unconscious.
Maybe I can flourish.
Maybe in absence.
Collective memory is not the same as a collective
Think about a skeleton dancing across a table.
The skeleton is not the memory of the person who
owned it but now think
of a person who died.
Remember they owned a skeleton.
CHRISTIE ANN REYNOLDS is the author of Texts from My Mom (Big Lucks Books 2014) Revenge for Revenge (Coconut 2012), and idiot heart (New School Press 2009). She lives in Brooklyn.