Erika Kielsgard

The way “I thought 

This was never going to
Happen again” can
Manifesto tragedy
Or momentary rhythmic
Bliss breathing through
A memory at once

In a world where people are wasted
By war my love for you is irrational
At best anonymous consequence
Irreversible will: your feelings
A seemingly opposed risk
Limitation, like developing the meaning
Of a single word attached
To an abandoned building


If not necessary during plague time
Why do it? Why have rings
If you only put them on for display
Now I don’t feel like an idiot
For falling behind the handful
Of us on the ways to St. Ends
Losing all sense over the spotting
Of a new flower and the flower
Inside it. Nothing like hitting the ceiling
Fan in the mirror. It’s not an old idea
When you’re experiencing it
Everyone wants to feel something
I hid five chocolate hearts for you
Easter morning, you found four

Imitations to get in the spirit 

We still project a body of being
As entirely independent of
The borderless topography
We occupy. There might
Be a kind of grace in knowing when
To leave alone what you can’t
Possibly protect in this life

I have a great imagination
Extending the moment between
The will to fall and the fall actual

If a solar eclipse is a lunar victory
We’re thinking in the wrong terms

What’s the point? Isn’t something
I can say about anything

Clocktower as foghorn

Freedom and fidelity alternate
I’m remembering your birthday
And how it’s coming up
If I don’t go outside I never will
Cake on an extra layer of distance
In New York. Now the difference
Between you, a near stranger
And a relationship in decades
I once pissed underground

Means nothing irregardless
I chased my mugger outside
The station with reckless abandon
Fully aware of abstract pragmatism
My cat walks across the screen


In the mirror I can make out
The back of your head

Money and blood is all this is
Until you find yourself in someone

Etched around a perpetual
Migraine, I’m still

A broken-in agora-
Phobic from a domestic point

Of view. Wriggling out from under
Your own looking

Glass: the difference
In tears attached

To milk spilled
Or poured

Memory is depending on how to look

Both ways. By consequence
Crack in the sidewalk
I cannot crawl into, no matter
How the body folds almost
When numbing is no longer
A controlled experiment
And the solution occupies
Whatever system ascribed to it
Will crumble. It is impossible
To comprehend trust
I can inhale a peony and find
An anemone out of water
But that’s not enough to slow
Down the mind outside this view

Crocus peripheries

In which you in a mood
Recognize a flower finally
And when I name it for you
I know we can be friends
Eventually, the sun agrees
We’ve walked a long way
To see a water bottle rolling
Down the hill, what joy
In marvelously free lighting
By the lake we grow close
To a mourning dove and I
Recognize it sings for both
Extremes. We enter the city
So maybe now I can speak