Mary Esch Sun

Nesting An unforgiving winter is comingbut discomfort is no longer a season,manmade extinctions are the new norm — —- —- —-that’s a different poem… According to beekeepers, this winter is going to be a real drag ‘em out eventbecause bees are already throwing out the excess,like months early. I’m referring to honeybees & the somewhat insolent drones are men & the bees that do the dirty workof keeping the hive efficient are called workers.

Courtesy of Fan D 1. I am spinning on a carousel tied to the back of a wooden horse with its teeth maniacally bared. I am falling through the heart of a dying star. The gravity of the Earth suddenly doubles its strength, and it grabs me and pulls me down. 2. My stomach has been replaced with a small, angry porcupine trying to chew its way out. My guts are lined with smoldering coals.

Courtesy of Daniel Hjalmarsson In the womb we watch our eyelids. This is enough to blaze a pathway in the brain, wiring it in anticipation of light. A warm-up act. The neurologist says, The world must be dreamed before it can be seen— Which has its pithy ring. But of what, these dreams? The brain doesn’t need much of the world, it seems—restless visual cortex rehearsing in the mind’s dark theater. What does that do— what does it do to write this? Field of tall grass, ventured through.