/ Selected poetry from 'Ouse'

OUSE II

not one day nor ten
would sate the Ouse
but twenty-one days

counting stones
Virginia of the waters
scars of our dread.

II

mother ushers
the water
seventy years of fright
beauty, yes!
the drowning cry
of a nonliably bodied
blackberry bush.

IV

The quiet of all that was written
without language.
ROSA FONT
you shell almonds
skin stunned fish
bursting
mouthfuls of cherry
a language sheared like
thistle bloom
dignifying
other rivers.

[UNTITLED]

you’re two by the book’s end
abandoned at intermission
unable to wolf it down
short of means and faith   as was she
you walk away with this failed
Ouse in your pocket.