Julie Doxsee

To Look At no Man Steering

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

on his bicycle the trees whose tips vibrate invisibly

back away, no longer shrinkable. sunup had not

come to prevent the raw feel. into the lawn the man’s

campaign to add a fifth season sinks.

 

 

 

 

 

*  *  *

 

 

 

 

 

Roped-Off Gravity

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A glint of blue

butterflies its way
across the

throats of seven
children.

A wheel is

the forwardness
we thought

emerged only as
accidental

tongues.

 

 

 

 

*  *  *

 

 

 

 

 

 

An After-Angel Undercover

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What force did lull our arms as if in code I

wait, goodbye, asleep now. All nerves we invited

to leech the battery of morning choirs

hid, so they grew over with hush

despite sunset, throat saying not in case.

 

 

 

 


Julie Doxsee, born in London, Ontario, holds an MFA from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and is now a PhD student at the University of Denver. Other recent work appears or is forthcoming in Aufgabe, Retort Magazine, 42opus, Spork, La Petite Zine, H_NGM_N, Slope, Eratio Postmodern Poetry, Word For/Word, can we have our ball back?, Elimae, Coconut Poetry, Conduit, Typo, Fourteen Hills, Shampoo, Action Yes, and other journals. Read her blog here.