Alice Hall
IN SOME ALIEN PRAIRIE

the birds don’t circle the ways they do here…….collected in one
large cloud……a blanket of ‘of’ …….there’s no following
in backwards timeno picking back up or undoing…..the glass
hardens almost immediatethe soft bubble at the tip smoothed
to hard nub….the sound of liquid in yr straw….….a suck bitten
between  handful  of  teeth…. it  thinks  of  things  which  need
splitting…..division….via money…….via  labor….…. via  you’re
too  stupid…………look….how  pretty….….i’ve  become..in  yr
absence……..look  how you’re  faking  just look….you’ve  peed
yrself all over N –– J ––– Transit,….you’ve lost….yr flip flops in
old bridge & now we’re getting kicked off the train b/c,   well,
b/c i’ve sworn off swearing   sworn off being a woman yelling
instead i’ll be a reliquary….….so how about……..you give me yr
xbox?……yes, it was me….yr bungled up boyfriend….come to
sew all the patches on yr clothes
…………………………………………………& come to split the field in two


Alice HallAlice Hall is poet living and working in Buffalo, NY, where she is pursuing a PhD in the Poetics Program at SUNY Buffalo. Previously, she taught poetry and writing in Portland, Oregon. Her poems are published or forthcoming in Prelude, Dream Pop, DIAGRAM, and elsewhere. She is the author of the chapbook One Million Nude Women (Industrial Lunch.)

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