← v14n1, Spring 2015
Poetry · Volume 14, Number 1

Blue Flower

Blue flower, the flower shines bluely.

A piranha is heard turning.

A pupa and a pupa are responsible.

How to live without fear?

Hawad says that he cannot pierce the sky.

Don’t pierce the sky, Hawad.

Don’t die.

In Pistoia the tides are human.

It’s true that all water slides from the world.

The beaver dotes on skin.

Does it consider some slats an armoire?

Knobs, which remain unseen?

Vespas have earned a minute of silence.

They fly around the roof and crouch.