EARTH KNOWN AS STARS
by Ricky Novaes de Oliveira
Backwoods, off-road. July Saturday, campfire light. Relucent bluettes crooning uncool tunes semantic knaves with steamboat envy wandering, unbarred laughter defining night. A clearing, morning realization, almost empty cans, half-zipped sleepers… Ketol ejecta / Plenty cenote / Hidden in places shadowed mischievous faces shaped by cuttlebone, midnight leapers… clearing by the bobcat den clearing through the tents—scars kinsmen vacate in bovine dreaming bunny-prone: How much longer? a snore asks nth star.
Snag a ram!
I’m in northwest Arkansas this week, writing to you surrounded by woodland green. I’ve been spending time with friends, celebrating and summering and soaking up (too much) sun. This week, I wrote a poem about going camping and I used a handy anagram machine to incorporate my friends and sights from our weekend as a constraint. Some lines are jumbled phrases, some word pairs are rearranged first names. The result is a dreamwalk of sorts—like shadows dancing by a low campfire. You’re welcome to decode the riddle of dreams, but sometimes they’re better without solving.
Yen slicer, Ricky
I love it