Poems and Texts

from DISTANCE DECAY by Cathy Eisenhower

from Distance Decay

When you are not raging me, I am not considering not raging you.

From want of speechlessness and also from being in it.

What my structure is is this loom toward analysis.

If staring wild at vector shadows launched from a live source of mouth light
can extract loving heads that nuzzle from inside the body walls,
then what else could it possibly fucking want.

Whose mind has entered a man as hands full of diffident countries, font-shaped.

It holds lament patiently in its arrows.

This is the way we eyes clear the entering.

But the more I make of force as peer, the stranger I am dreamt.

That I belong to it of body-colored ink, a mineral year.

I try to be discursive. Miraculous.

Cathy Eisenhower

Cathy Eisenhower lives and works as a therapist in Washington, DC, and is the author of distance decay (Ugly Duckling Presse, 2015), Language of the Dog-heads (Phylum 2001), clearing without reversal (Edge 2008), and would with and (Roof 2009). She is co-translating the selected poems of Argentine poet Diana Bellessi and co-curated the In Your Ear Reading Series for several years. Her work has recently appeared in The Recluse, Aufgabe, West Wind Review, The Brooklyn Rail, and Fence.

Related Events