divine magnet





Colleen Louise Barry


Unstable Star

My face lifted away

to reveal the exact same face

like a significant dream

I remember the objects in a brushfire

accepting their fate

                                    The leftover motion

in bodies at rest jiggling

in their suits like a lake

                                    The trees around

They blend into many different ends

                                    No one knows why

I install my Quick Set Top Drop in Bobbin

The sewing machine is new

                                    An invention for a future use

I suddenly realize I would believe in anything

if the rhythm felt right

My dog sleeping

The afternoon

                                    Sun hits me

I’m a person in their own wilderness

Same as everyone else

                                    On the edge of town

A few fireflies died

No one has sensed their absence

                                    Good artists are never as good as they were

when they were mostly self-conscious

That’s my initial reaction and I’m sticking to it

In math class I was no good

                                    I was using mostly a ruler

fabricated from bacon, honestly, the Internet

is a natural disaster

On the Internet storms have names

like Atlas and Zephyr

On the Internet I met a man named Cactus

It was a natural disaster

I still use the Internet

Life is resilient

                                    In a still life painting

Even an oyster seems scholarly

A fresh lemon, privileged

                                    Thinking anything besides the exact present is absurd

abstract thinking, thinking is natural

Speaking is a privilege

More and more empathy

                                    Is what we need to produce

Reality, the only way to be real

is to have a lot of accidents

                                    A lot of irreconcilable differences

about color exist in the world, a lot of details

make me sad, Simon Birch’s striped baseball pants

The stray hair on a swimming man’s back

                                    This moment is full of porcelain

I’m observing the thin membrane of March snow

A condescendingly smooth epidermis

A girl’s puffy amethyst coat

My four eyes’ bruises

Their bad peach glow

                                    Exhaustion is not a status symbol

There are a lot of things on my plate right now

Especially big green leaves

Blue is mostly an unnatural color

                                    My eyes are not blue

                                    My eyes are green

                                    There’s no beginning

                                    I turn around

                                    I take a picture

You’re just sitting there

with some sautéed bok choy

                                    I remember sweet grass and enamel

I’ve caught one fish alone in a creek bend

I looked at its small dumb mouth

moving desperately to breathe, I threw it back

I’ve never told anyone

                                    In school I did all the homework

But I ended up just kind of sad

It’s not that I’m unfeedable, I’m too feedable

                                    Tiny water bears eat holes in my face

A water bear is an actual Earth creature

who can survive in the vacuum of space

Although not an extremophile, who are responsible for the colors

in the Grand Prismatic Spring

                                    Here comes the mail woman

No news I’ve been pausing for

All the little things I must remember

to be the little bit I’d like to be

                                    I’d like to be a florist

with bruisey lace

Love is the main concern

Yogurt, garlic, fresh green onions

                                    I remember my moon roof was so cool

Crawling out of it with Brendan

I remember he had a 3-gallon water bottle

he put his lips on all day

                                    I remember the roof in Brooklyn

I remember certain of the pigeons

                                    Traffic lights make me nervous

What I’m really looking for is friendship

                                    I never could accept it

I don’t believe in marketing

I want to have meaningful transactions

                                    I would walk right up to someone

I would give them a light

It’s Spring now people !

Pink is holy

                                    How scented is the earth

Joe smelled like pennies

The core of an unstable star

                                    It’s brave

to have a name and to use it

It’s the first choice you didn’t make

The first small ruin

                                    It’s not beautiful

to continue, it’s necessary

Beauty has been much discussed

                                    but not necessarily

intelligence, a pastel trick, just likes beauty

                                    Lavender describes itself

The color disappears as you see it

Velvety fuzz on a young buck’s antler

Incredible all-American turkeys

                                    I’m trying to be honest

It’s the most obvious thing

There’s always the ideas about orange

There’s always a next season

                                    I remember the glass egg

Chris gave me, it was for bending light into confetti

                                    I’d like to run

like a football player out of a tunnel

for the Big Game

                                    I lied about bees to get out of school

This was one of the only times I can remember

I was satisfied with my language

                                    When will it go away

It will look like one person

bear hugging

another person

                                    Once I figure this out I will be a spaceship

I put all the raspberries on my fingers

Older men are almost always disappointed

in this type of behavior

Debbie Harry would never put up with it

neither would Kendra

                                    I learned about sex from cowboys in romance novels

It can always be throbbing

                                    I examined a ladybug in the folds of my freshly washed sheets

What do I know about survival

When is the next time we can eat

                                    I remember finding the pearl

In the clam at that restaurant

by the slate lake

It was an entirely perfect color

                                    When I lived in the south

All the people were taller

All the lawns were sharper

Now I live in the North

                                    I’m growing my bangs out

The icicles aren’t kidding

They’re pointing toward the ground

In three or four weeks this snow will be flowers

                                    The longer I’ve been at it

the more I understand

A day is an opportunity for a picnic

It will never end

                                    Space, I think, likes me

It bends a graceful head

over the course of a thousand thousand light years

Its message is the depth of blackness

                                    It would make a comfortable bed

The sky so clearly blue it stings

The squinting eye moon rise

I’m not upset about anything

                                    At the present time

My home is on a mountain