Summer 2004

Summer 2004

Jennifer Firestone BLISS On top of a mountain orange-fisted poppies a buzz flickers around my skin in my ears. You’re oblivious sucking on sour grass staring at tree rings. I follow looking for bats, shooting stars, moss in the forest. Robbed of my worth as I hide in the dirt, what will I become? I’m invisible my speech threaded on a pair of wings. I’m inutterable hair falling into deep sticks. Dear, this is bliss. Dear, this is an unforgivable planet where apathy blooms amidst the wildflowers and stars burn out, one by one.   Jennifer Firestone teaches poetry at Hunter College in New York City. An excerpt from her manuscript Holiday has just been published by Sona Books. Poems are either published or forthcoming in LUNGFULL!, HazMat Review, Yefief, Diner, moria, Karamu, The Cortland Review, Tin Lustre Mobile, Sugar Mule, Feminist Studies, Sidereality, Forpoetry.com, Madison Review, Interim, Phoebe, and So to Speak.

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