Emily-Pettit

A million different landscapes with snow.
It’s a study of bees. These are your future ducks.
We get desperate. We start dancing. It is a weird
come apart. No returns of cake. No exchanges
of cake. Run your thumb across your bottom lip.
Run your thumb across your bottom lip again.
I float quietly. I have a nice stand. I don’t know
how to say, I’m just looking. We breathe air.
We keep the same body temperature all day.
We are holding onto things. An unspecified
racket. A small wagon. The biggest warehouse.
It’s ambitious and complicated. It’s a result
that is still unclear and can go either way.
I do not know what I have to make. I make
mistakes and many of them. I’m afraid I make
many mistakes. This has something to do
with the desperation and something to do
with other things too. A web of smoke holding
onto a dark night. Refusing to reflect any light.
Tell me things. I am waiting for you to tell me things.
I want you to tell me things.
vimeo

Dara Wier reading “Not That Lake” with an absolutely lovely video by Bianca Stone, Emily Pettit, Heather Christle, Guy Pettit and Ben Pease.

by Emily Pettit

I put my hand on your hand. Mostly I meant to 
be good. It was the shaking sky and what I wanted 
to see below. It is always shaking where I am. 
What do you know from the shoulder up? 
I know you can only watch the plane 
until you can’t. Prominent cloud features are not far 
from my mind. It’s an attempt to protect 

both of our mind circumferences from being mistaken 
for a shark that stops swimming. And other forms 
of disaster. I apologize. I would do anything 
for a different look from you. Animals in the ocean 
make mistakes too, maybe. And our memories. 
I know memory is remarkable and unpredictable. 
And I am meaning to be better with what I know. 
I know now is not the time to take up flying. 
You say, I’m watching you. And I say, No, I’m watching you.
I am the government on the moon and
I mean to let you forgive me.
You Keep Asking What I Want and I Don't Know What I Want

A million different landscapes with snow.
It’s a study of bees. These are your future ducks.
We get desperate. We start dancing. It is a weird
come apart. No returns of cake. No exchanges
of cake. Run your thumb across your bottom lip.
Run your thumb across your bottom lip again.
I float quietly. I have a nice stand. I don’t know
how to say, I’m just looking. We breathe air.
We keep the same body temperature all day.
We are holding onto things. An unspecified
racket. A small wagon. The biggest warehouse.
It’s ambitious and complicated. It’s a result
that is still unclear and can go either way.
I do not know what I have to make. I make
mistakes and many of them. I’m afraid I make
many mistakes. This has something to do
with the desperation and something to do
with other things too. A web of smoke holding
onto a dark night. Refusing to reflect any light.
Tell me things. I am waiting for you to tell me things.
I want you to tell me things.

– emily pettit

youtube

So beginning on March 13th, Ryan MacDonald and I will be hitting the road for our first reading tour together. Ryan will be promoting his brilliant collection of short stories The Observable Characteristics of Organisms and I’ll be promoting my new collection of poems, Wallop, out soon with Magic Helicopter Press. On the way we’ll be reading with such killers as Emily Pettit and Rachel B. Glaser and Seth Landman and Stella Corso and Christy Crutchfield. The dates/places are in the video. I am a hamburger. Ryan is a dancer. Please give it a watch and come see us some night if we’re in your town.