Lisa Williams Poems

They are circling circling wanting a way to the sea
the urge to spawn comes the urge to spawn goes
...

If I could hold a fire against
a hemisphere of shadows, hold it
close, not so that damage
...

The iceberg moves will-less
through shades of gray and gray,
a tower of clouded glass
...

A tangle of white horns
bristles above the line of water—
You swim to graze, your pasture
...

Because civilization is always
a retort to another's guts—
Remove the hive. It is in
the wrong place, nestled and humming
...

How do we know it's not matter that matters
but matter's absence, elegies of matter
like air between the columns of these trees:
not lines of wood but lines of air between
...