two poems

by Khara Rosebrook

Beth (No. 5)

after Hilma

Af Klint in a stream of ants

she eclipses. hugs

groceries to her chest

on a lilypad, suckling

through fishnet. someone

sent a ghost current;

she is a gaggle of ghosts

in future wind. she

is smoke-skin wash

of anti-body body

matter. girl is the

dappled numinous.

girl is glow

in the eye of a needle.

all swept memory

is stonelike.

all body is bird body.

as ex-lovers pile

her evening naps are

populated. she’s smile

lines modular. she’s

trancework calculated.

all laughter besmirched

into performance. yet

she girl is a laugh.

she girl is the pale

potent. the rocketship

before the rocketship.

Camille (No. 4)

after Hilma

Af Klint baby-cheeked

diamond baubles

on her lashes. so often

consciousness blinks—

whenever the chaos

magic cybersigil

is inadequate.

the boyfriend morning

light is parched as roses.

good thing she

club-like.

half-talking mortal

vessel. unsung whole

hungry mentalplanet.

she’s desire cannot

be contained in

civil symbols. she’s

ethnoplanet gorged

in extremes, extremity

directed by lotus.

boyfriend see

worms but not cherry

at shell’s center. while

she could fi ght in

the blurry tar, tonight

she is mild in the

astraplanet. zebra

print, touch, she swell.

Photo of Khara Rosebrook

BIO: Khara Rosebrook is a Cincinnati poet and musician. She self-released a poetry zine called Nervous Diaries, received an honorable mention for the Jean Chimsky Poetry Prize, and is currently working on recording an album.