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Danielle Rose

On the Creation of New Language from the Reading Lists of the Dead

​after a death / when i taste my own need like unpleasant iron bleeding behind a bad tooth / this is when we become like blankets in winter / it is how loss reveals a new language / & why at night i wonder why the sound of a running faucet brings panic  / or why the sight of an owl in flight / makes my heart race with joy / there is small magic in how suddenly my kitchen feels like a different home / and where the rough edge of that chipped dinner plate becomes a flowerbed & then blooms / there are even discarded bits of paper raining like poems / raining like so many useless poems / because grandmother you read “ulysses” when you were sixteen but you will never read my poems / so i can only believe that soil is just one way to cover a grave / & that burial is ever-present
 
in the graveyard / three men in yellow reflective vests / heap dirt into an open wound

Biography

Picture
Danielle Rose lives in Massachusetts with her partner and their two cats. She is the managing editor of Dovecote Magazine and used to be a boy.

Twitter @KittiesnStars
Selected Publications @ bit.ly/2XuhiaY

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ISSN 2639-426X
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    • Issue 28
    • Issue 27
    • Issue 26
    • Issue 25
    • Issue 24
    • Issue 23
    • Issue 22
    • Issue 21
    • Issue 20
    • Issue 19
    • Issue 18
    • Serenity
    • Issue 17
    • The Audio Room
    • Issue 16
    • Issue 15
    • Issue 14
    • Play It Again
    • Issue 13
    • Issue 12
    • Issue 11
    • Issue 10
    • Issue 9
    • Issue 8
    • Issue 7
    • Issue 6
    • Hand to Mouth
    • Issue 5
    • Issue 4
    • Issue 3
    • Issue 2
    • Issue 1
  • Submissions