by Hillary Gravendyk
cover photograph by Benjamin Burrill
Decoratively we skim forward, studding streets
that fold themselves into cul-de-sacs, elaborating patterns
in the perforated sky. Each display repeats, hosts subtle
alterations. Here we describe desire as a numbered series.
The light is trimmed into a retractable holiday;
glass bulges with what passes, what is preserved--
but let's say that that clanging is a moving train:
one should always be reminded of being left.
Hillary Gravendyk's poetry has appeared in American Letters & Commentary, Tarpaulin Sky, The Colorado Review, 1913; A journal of forms, The Bellingham Review, Fourteen Hills and many other publications. She is a PhD candidate in English at the University of California, Berkeley, where she is also the co-curator of The Holloway Series in Poetry and Poems Against War. Originally from the Pacific Northwest, she and her husband now live in Oakland, CA.
Benjamin Burrill is interested in how things work. He builds some of those things (and takes pictures) in Oakland, CA, where he lives with his wife. Find him at graybirdimages.com.