Poetry: Montreux Rotholtz

 

Frequency

Montreux Rotholtz

 

you don’t need to walk through the desert
see with your mouth instead  |  the outer edge of the camp tooth
lit like bright bezel licked by sharp eyed girls

for sake of stirring  |  like diamonds breezy nation’s fault
wading through the pool at dark in a grid of lightning

your heart is just your heart
a cannibal morph  |  the noise of concept
spotted hyena limping in the high grass

you don’t need to walk through the desert
bite with your eye instead  |  forsake

warm rain  |  girls like thunder  |  like radio waves
like a shadow under a palm  |  for your mother
the lignotuber

 
 

Montreux RotholtzMontreux Rotholtz is the author of “Unmark” (Burnside Review Press, 2017), which was selected by Mary Szybist as the winner of the Burnside Review Press Book Award. Her poems appear in Black Warrior Review, Boston Review, Prelude, jubilat, Lana Turner, and elsewhere. She lives in Seattle.