Ana Bozičević

15-1 On Light

On my machine
I saw wondrous things
A building pointy like a
A glacier folding
And floating past a village
Your whole new
And the life
I can project outward
Like the sun
Throwing flares
To preclude
Implosion within
On my machine

I've seen wondrous things but
Never like
When you come
Into a room and light
Shines thru
Like there was
Something to it all
In the end
And it was gonna be ok
On a show I watch I saw
A pirate say
"I'm ruined over you"
And that's how I feel

A heart X-ray
No, heart Xerox
A peeling room in a crypt
A awful literary
Of poverty and exile
And a whole other pile of
That I can't shake
To be like you
Like air

Like the drums
Of a drummed up
Punked and
Drunk on the breath
Of the second world
I made
I sleep and wait
To be delivered
From my pains of want
By what
I have no idea

And in a dream
I saw the perfect
And everyone I loved
So young
And even the
Animals I loved
All resurrected
In this babely haven
Under the fir trees

A silver ball back and forth
And calling
To me
To forget my misery
And come among
My family and
What love is again
And endless time

A    A
But then, remember
How you
Said it to me
The N in my name
Dark as the wood
A tree trunk
From which grow

Two vowels of light
It's a crown of
And I forsake
My family and friends
And follow
You through the woods
And I sit in peeling rooms

Waiting for that light
To roll on through
Like ball lightning
Eery and
Swampy now
Coloring evening
In cemetery pink

Making every thing
And everyone I love
Be crinkled
Flowers with its flash
It couldn't

Possibly be love
This awful
Light, could it?
So what are you

What do you mean
By shedding
Yourself onto life
Until it's the color

Of death, greying and
Crinkled flowers?
If you're not love

Then you're
Not my light,

I'll be the light.

Ana Božičević is the author of the brand new Joy of Missing Out (Birds, LLC, 2017), the Lambda Award-winning Rise in the Fall (Birds, LLC, 2013) and Stars of the Night Commute (Tarpaulin Sky Press, 2009).
Mark Cugini