Alice Burdick

Champion Sleeper

Each day it’s so gravity.
Hipbones slip apart and the spine
declines to remain upright.

Kick sand into the dream.
The doors are open for charity purposes.
The residents will feel a dangerous breeze,
collective source of progeny.

Eyes open into a dark and vein-lit pod.
Does the squid see our dreams
and graph the present from these?
Jars of water over years
become more air, after all.
You can’t defy water and air
as they ignore disdain.

Monstrous seizures in boardrooms
on the 34th floor.  We should send a letter
from our cave in the mouth
of a compliant duck.

Shadow of serrated edge on the guava can.
Twins of spruce search for the birch
that falls to the scythe each June.
Everything is an import.

Drool will make me the champion sleeper,
traitor to beauty sleep, folds everywhere.

Life from Jeopardy

Sitting around,
learning life from jeopardy.
Is it real?
No problem.
Check out the frost,
water on the floor,
each boot on the wrong foot.

Turtles crawl over the pillow,
all in the same direction,
hiccing-up the air
and flying to the shorn island.

War as Peace

The earth is dismayed.
Slice; decay that comes before the end.
Flesh and ground gouged.  No rest
in this constant harm.

Oh men and women,
we are in our own history.
The past and the future
bruise our sweet skin.

Calm imperfection.
Static disregard for life; love
in the shadow of flying beasts.
Toppled earth will be reborn, strange,
once we are gone.

Oh men and women,
the bodies that hold us
should not burn thus.
Our weak skin can’t bear cruel plans.

Silence gains on time, and time
stops in its quiet land.
Blood leaves so fast, some times.
Doctors wait to be cured.

Rescuers rescue the rescuers,
flying straight into the rocks.

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