okey-panky
How Will A Cellist Sound Beneath The Sea?
Poems by Michelle Peñaloza
How Will A Cellist Sound Beneath The Sea?
Constellation
after Terrance Hayes
The stars above us ask so little,
despite our cells,
coursing with their dust. To err is constant —
someday, all the things we believe will seem ancient.
Perhaps, we’ll live more times than once.
Eventually, we will all flee toward the coastline.
The world we ignore most and understand least
will call us back to give up our toenails for tails,
cover our breasts with starfish and numinous scales.
Tell me, how will a cellist sound beneath the sea?
Desire
after Terrance Hayes
Turn your face. Face the horizon from another side
to watch the line between land and sky, upend and rise:
a schism slit view, red
and swollen. I speak of something like ire —
a sweetness that resides,
sings in the body like the reed
born from runnel, given second life in the mouth. Ser,
to be. Tu eres
mi amor: one seed
born from need, clear and dire.
Originally published at electricliterature.com on March 14, 2016.
