Three Poems

by Anna Bonesteel

Illustration by Michaela Walls

published March 4, 2016

Good morning   

Hell, I cruise. Through life, much like sand through the hourglass, or a fish in the stream. I keep tabs on, the white horizon, a gracious breach whale in the desperate scourge indecent desert today. I cruise. Hell, I cruise, tho the grey is, confusing, The sky is sort of white and sort of not, the sky is (here we delve into the precise blade of the skein, since to be a sky in here needs a sword or a blade today, For what am I to focus on, if not the blade of the determined life span of my arm span towards the misty heavens, For, and four again, the  meters of sky sand in the measure of arm span, of breach span, where the horison slips and sinks with not mine control and the remote sky smokin up alas! See, plus, see, plus, plus, For if one total thing is to hold consistency in the life span of my life it must be the sky Since my ear bones and hammers are slipping with pride and from this I can tell what is up up up, which is the best of my own abilities the jewel in the crown of orientation of a hot fog nite round this head of mined.)    


Stories I tell my roommate who is my best friend   

He’s usually very receptive. He has one quirk. He thinks nothing is very flat. Actually its all flat everywhere. I had a dream I met his mom and she told me to go into this room full of all sorts of mid century modern furniture and look out the window, and it was halloween and I saw myself a million or twenty times over wearing all the different halloween costumes I have had over the years, for instance the witch, or the cat, and then I turned around and saw the color of my eyes in the mirror but just exactly that, the color, all everywhere total fill and totally flat and super-zoomed, the real trouble with the color of the sky is that once you get up up up, away from the atmosphere and the hot air balloons and to where it really matters all it is anywhere is black.    


The final cruise  

I used to like art but I got over it. I want to drink a big glass of water. I’m 15 years old and I’ve never flown a kite. Some people say they want to be wrong. I wish I could be wrong but it hasn’t happened yet. I made three hundred dollars. Norm says just make what you like. I don’t want to make anything. I should eat the orange. I hate faith especially in churches. I don’t like you and I still want to hypnotize you with my big beautiful eyes. Everyone loves to get lost in my eyes. Everything is essentially the same. I live on top of a huge pyramid. It’s a miracle I get hot water. I pray a lot. The ocean is full of little tiny earth worms and no water. We don’t have a lot a time left. I ate the orange. I want to draw snow out of my fingers. I want to lie down on the ground and take my sweet time. You fucker. Everything is essentially exactly the same.