Molly Fisk: In Other News
I can easily find
the edges now between anger, rage,
and disappointment by what’s running
underneath and stop before I lash out.
Molly Fisk: Full Flower Moon Lunar Eclipse
It was me, stepping out the front door
every six or eight minutes to look up
into a cloudy sky that darkened
and opened.
Molly Fisk: Austerity
I love the bare, the necessary: tree without leaves,
man with no clothes. Muscle and skin, bark, knot,
scar, and stubble. Dignity planted before us without
apology.
Molly Fisk: Parsing
the pounding heart
subsiding slowly, slowly, til it’s just a noun again, returning
to its steady beat of subject, verb, adverb, object
Molly Fisk: Devotion
The mergansers fly so close to the surface
their feet could touch it, banking up
from gray waves to paler sky
Molly Fisk: Phil, Who Loved the Giants
The bra I took off at 4:45 through the sleeve of my dress
and put down somewhere I find on my grandmother’s hutch
in the kitchen, incongruous, surrounded by jars of jam
Molly Fisk: You and I
the whole country snarled into such a hot mess
you wouldn’t recognize democracy if she
removed her skirts and danced on your lap for free,
pretending to like you.
Molly Fisk: How to Stop
It depends on the way you were broken:
Body from soul? Mind from memory?
Molly Fisk: Native Landscape
Back then, the new growth on redwoods was the brightest
green and tasted of citrus, a good vitamin source if you were lost
in the woods, which I wasn’t, I was pure found girl skipping…
Molly Fisk: She Lived to See
ate only bites but
always well: warm boysenberry pie,
bone broth matzoh ball soup
Molly Fisk: God Speaks to the Rope Swings of Summer
in his gentlest voice, reminding them
about change, about fallow fields and the quiet
everything needs to grow stronger
Molly Fisk: The Lineage
the poets, tethered to each other
in the popular mind as if we were one
big family and we are
Molly Fisk: Elegy (for Leah)
her infinite soprano
and my street drawl voicing words that could
depress a saint
Molly Fisk: Firmament
Daylight and darkness are real, and seasons,
but everything else is a story…
Vox Populi 