from THE ALTAR STATE
Everybody at the crosswalk smiles at me
with what I want to be their love
and the wet leaves huddled in the gutters
I want to give me hope
It's nearly March with new names to bill us
new building with a neighbor smoking a cigarette
behind a window across the courtyard
in her underwear
After forgetting to put the holed cap back on the salt
I got sloppy in the kitchen
in the small space between the counter and the stove
with the one functioning radiator invisibly leaking
to my mother's room
What was it she used to do
Iron sweaters, scroll sacred nonsense in a notebook
a good hand pulling at her mind
And despite my own beliefs
I fear that I have always preferred those
who live lives of full faith
a building covered with leaves
a building covered with the look of water
The train banging out its bright blind act
around the corporate pond a willow
a willow a willow
I try to throw off the city but it's everywhere
To be less alone I walk to the lake
to walk with the lake
Having known god once I know how to be
the smallest thing next to the largest
but even in the ice the ducks bow on
and I'm just so big for a girl
Everybody at the crosswalk smiles at me
with what I want to be their love
and the wet leaves huddled in the gutters
I want to give me hope
It's nearly March with new names to bill us
new building with a neighbor smoking a cigarette
behind a window across the courtyard
in her underwear
After forgetting to put the holed cap back on the salt
I got sloppy in the kitchen
in the small space between the counter and the stove
with the one functioning radiator invisibly leaking
--------------------On the train today I thought my way
to my mother's room
What was it she used to do
Iron sweaters, scroll sacred nonsense in a notebook
a good hand pulling at her mind
And despite my own beliefs
I fear that I have always preferred those
who live lives of full faith
--------------------We pass a building covered with glass
a building covered with leaves
a building covered with the look of water
The train banging out its bright blind act
around the corporate pond a willow
a willow a willow
AFTER A BIRTHDAY IS SUNDAY
I try to throw off the city but it's everywhere
To be less alone I walk to the lake
to walk with the lake
Having known god once I know how to be
the smallest thing next to the largest
but even in the ice the ducks bow on
and I'm just so big for a girl
ALISA HEINZMAN lives in Chicago with Jake Gillespie. She's an editor for Octopus Books and works for a translation company.