JESSICA FJELD


THE SHORTEST DISTANCE THAT CAN BE FALLEN

Any piece of paper now could be the incomprehensible prayer
I was given, and asked to fold smaller

I couldn’t make it smaller       We were driving north
Asked to save one, I could be asked

to render judgment on another
When it’s live-and-let-live I say make conversation

Like any other human I have
talked about you behind your back              I have

I’ve been at other times an ungenerous lover
Picked out sunflowers at the corner store then said

how I hated sunflowers hated the give-it-up way they die
Over and over accused of rational inquiry

taking things apart I say take it all off
Like any other human like a nailbiter

Like the daughter of my parents in the mountains
In love with and frightened of the mountains

That I might be alone                 That I could fail
in the mountains to be seen and not seen
 
 
 
 
EUDEMONISTIC

What do you keep inside a box
made from diamonds
made from sugar

I feel like it is not a place
for snowstorms and
the world agrees

Is it spring?
The brown grass still lies down—
maybe it’s just
open to spring

The weather is an undeveloped
personality

What do you keep inside
an airplane hangar, it’s like
Oh my god
Whatever it is
It had better be big enough
 
 
 
 



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