{"id":401,"date":"2016-12-16T13:52:38","date_gmt":"2016-12-16T19:52:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thespectaclstg.wpengine.com\/?p=401"},"modified":"2017-11-13T11:28:57","modified_gmt":"2017-11-13T17:28:57","slug":"poetry-by-anne-marie-rooney","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/?p=401","title":{"rendered":"Poetry by Anne Marie Rooney"},"content":{"rendered":"

Home<\/h4>\n
\nThere is no place left.
\nThe sparrow slides into the new store.
\nA wall beside the street, it is where the newness
\nThat is my body rests.
\nI put my nose in it.
\nLove, the orange fever.
\nApartment of waltzes, I am naked with
\nThe once girl. My mother feeds the starlings,
\nBut death grows. Vicodin and fire
\nEscape. Uptown the village
\nTurns to plastic. Candy clouds dress strollers
\nIn death. All the people pushed. Light just
\nRazed it. <\/p>\n

It was the middle of the end,
\nA story about to move.
\nTeeth past holes, disaster pickled.
\nI cannot afford it: loving home,
\nA block and a bic.
\nMy throat hurt her belly, that I sang.
\nThere is no place left, the memory
\nA calamity box. <\/p>\n

And it is night, the shell breaks . . .<\/p><\/div>\n

 
\n <\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

Candy smoke<\/h4>\n

Nothing but blood coating the city
\nWorld, I shut and wobbled. Slow-going.
\nSelf-steeped. A black cat
\nLicked the pavement. I wanted to think
\nIt didn’t miss its ear, or that water under-
\nDulled the sloe engine.
\nLight slugged closed in oranges.
\nGarbage garage, what sound dropped
\nInto: beautiful bubbling skin the sky did scar.
\nOnce that water was the cream.
\nTires rubbed their skin against the street.
\nI wanted the floodless
\nFoodless animal, to be sleep’s tack,
\nSo pressed. Halogen slurry.
\nThe leg under the name of the loved.
\nSinking was sight how I rode. Each pull
\nWas alone: loved\u2014but seared light\u2014to thicken
\nLuck. When a claw entered a god gull.
\nA knot of hair hung lowly behind it. The drug
\nTurned the animal into another. I try
\nTo unarch this, the fold made secret by so telling.
\nIts death\u2014god’s\u2014silvered in the median.
\nI wanted to be one of the men, hanging
\nThere, listening for mine hunger so to fall.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

Disaster<\/h4>\n
\n1.<\/p>\n

I have lodged an arm.
\nClimb up. (And bend to block the day.)
\nFringe and lint cling: I smoke it,
\n smoke it. Become girl that girl
\n eats, that color on the wall or color
\n thrown down to starve towards.
\n(On the street, which lay a storm.)
\nLint bubbles where static tops
\n the thought of.
\n (And ten kiss to stop the light.)
\nThe memory’s chopped and screwed.
\nI flint across time’s face.<\/p>\n

2.<\/p>\n

The room is a garden I am not inside in.
\nStable topped up with dust.
\n It’s an accident.
\n Spin the bottle.
\n(Paper bag on long black hair,
\n what summer heat’s tied back from.)<\/p>\n

3.<\/p>\n

I ask for a fire.
\nShe brings her burnt shirts.
\nI smell disaster on the pink water, disaster on
\n the water bed.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n
\n

Anne Marie Rooney is the author of Spitshine<\/em> (Carnegie Mellon University Press, 2012), as well as two chapbooks. Her work has been twice featured in the Best American Poetry<\/em> anthology. A co-founder of Line Assembly, she currently lives in Baltimore.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Home | Candy smoke | Disaster<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":410,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[33],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/401"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=401"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/401\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/410"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=401"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=401"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=401"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}