Home PageArchivesVolume no. 1Issue 2Poetry: Carignan

something lost is the greatest evidence of “had”

Mackenzie Carignan


sand sticks in layers landscape his arm


that grammar will never reach you. form


stimulate the seedlings, starlings, sterling dress


beautiful triangular ships arriving


that you might have multiplied and burrowed


the wood without the water. parched


his significance is blinding. even his own sadness


If Ever Then

Mackenzie Carignan

I. Contradiction ice: this
spring.  You wouldn’t be blue
              Even when I don’t
want to think of you,
you bang through
with the swoop of marimba,
cupped palm full of kumquats,
                       then flying.

II. We brachiate: shallow root-ball,
dry fronds, living best in the heat,
close and lazy as the city becomes
around us. Telephone: say you still.
Our language, winged, coalesced.

III. I can’t imagine phosphorescence
without wanting you in the sand,
arms awkward obstacles in the way
of this partial, combustible union.
On our way to
                  maybe still

IV. Be again . . .
we carve valleys, bring me thinking:
what if we collided in the sky
in the street
came apart (broke) in half our
shadows fat, forgiving and giving
inside cars, between streetlight and cobblestone?

V. Crow, barn swallow,
mourning dove, seagulls
colliding above us
like streetlights.

You think we once had wings
or should have become
or will
          or will

Mackenzie Carignan teaches in Broomfield, Colorado. She recently finished her Ph.D. at the University of Illinois at Chicago in English, Creative Writing. She is part of the Black Radish Press consortium and edits the online poetry journal listenlight with Jesse Crockett. For more info, please visit her website: http://www.mackenziecarignan.com.

1 comment

  1. Tony Chiaviello says: July 6, 2010

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