Louise Ling Edwards

between my ribs, somewhere:1    fluxes of heat and carbon,2 reefs of sky, ships3       whose names have long eroded.4 we wore ourselves weary during5 a summer squall,6    the waters rising7 —events preserved       in8 root-bronzed water.9 graves everywhere so many shades:10 deep blue skull,11 old milk tin,12 lingering green    below the wake.13 we bury our history14       in …

A field with a lonely baseis a fish. If you want to betraditional, start a fire.My grandfather fell in lovelearning Chinese. He askedhis teacher out to the museum.An abundance. A cow in the middlethat is or is not a thing. The courtyardthat shifts to an ending. A gallery.My girlfriend and I went out alsoto the …