Re-

Kristi Maxwell

A sample poem from the book

from Cycle: Action/Figure

Gnats deconstruct
their breakfast fastidiously, feast-tediously.
Tiniest black teeth zooming low near the lower jaw
of the manilla folder colored table.
She takes her collection of dolls and he his darkest markers:
Dentist, she pleas, clean, and the doll’s teeth
become beyond the crack in the door
where light diets to a skeleton of light
laying patient as a train station.
It works well,
the platform where they perform
this construction. Vegetables coddled
in the cutting, thus zucchini lives its less remarkable
dream dreamed for it: Periscope with nothing
to spy. In unison, spoons move to their mouths, in unison
in a way more eerie than hunger in common. Like they are
tracing intentionally the flight pattern of a bird
when its wings are most upward.
Like this intentionality facilitates something.