divine magnet





Taryn Andrews


Letting Your Ghost Body Go

It’s the ghost idea.

The ghost which is immortal

and the ghost which is the representation

of my lasting love on film.

These fundamental ideas from time to time

must have within it

a long ghost, which

persists after the body dies.

We pass on in fragments,

we breathe out our broken heart in parts.

One day this ghost will materialize

on the couch beside you

and you will finally have the chance to stay

forever this time,

and enter a new body

continuing to breathe out

until every mortal piece has been breathed out.

And afterwards,

wandering only as an astral body,

you will grow into a flower

sending forth its subtle scent

as you admire

your broken heart out the window,

and sunbathe

as two lovers

watch a movie on cable TV.



Lights change, limbs move,

and the drought continues.

The sun becomes the feeling

and the feeling can last you all the way home.

Every time you see a movie you want to quit your job

and do whatever they were doing in the movie.

You put your foot up on the dash.

The dash is eternal.

Palm trees rain down dreams of the future onto your weary head.

Think. I’m feeling it more than usual. My short life, my nails painted coral.

You’re thinking about yourself and this experience,

pop songs driving through a tunnel.

The kid in the passenger seat next to you says,

Now I know what it’s like to be inside of a cloud.

Turn to him and say,

Whatever. I gave this to you. It’s yours now.



Big rages at small inconveniences,

some real desperate downloads.

I just want to watch Hulu like I used to.

You create meaning where there is none

and I love you.

I could listen to you for forever.

Grass grows upwards through the pavement

at night, sleepwalks to face the moon.

Let’s waterfall together forever

like a vortex of views.

Most of us cannot say if

this very evening

the moon will be out at all

or if what we perceive as a picture

is actually an image but rather,

has been constructed over time.

Anything could be true.

There is nothing arbitrary

about an earthquake

or the collision of cars

or the stabbing to death

of one person

by another.



I think there is something

wrong with me.

Like, my brain just fell asleep.

Like, my heart is made up of a thousand bees.

Waiting for my body to come back online,

a thousand bees

definitely not asleep.

And the wife now,

she can see far into the future.

Leaves dripping wet in the windowsill.

And she has a heart?

Yes T, a heart of bees.


Time Again

Almost everything scares you.

A dog swims alone in the river

surrounded by ducks.

Scared Jerusalem. Scares you.

An estranged woman

is eyeing her sandwich bag of medicine.

The airports and cities are full.

There are so many people. The earth

is viewed by you as post-dinosaurs.

Ferns remind you of the time dinosaurs roamed the earth.

Dear God,

the ferns ate the dinosaurs.

The bagel you ate will never exist again.

Bread pictured in an old coupon book from the 1990s

would be unrecognizable today.

A green nothing.


Everyone Ever

I can see how it seems I’ve just floated in through a window

but I’m going to force myself to open up

to the western United States,

like a feeling or a sentence that’s just running through me.

Completely, he said,

it’s like riding a bike through your face.

And I’m going to

try again, or for the first time since I was a girl,

describe each moment as it’s happening

like the smell of honeysuckles or how pavement feels.

I’m hoping that with all this cold, clear magic dripping down all over everything

I’ll become like a real person again,

a person that people give meaning to a walk in the woods with

because, if it weren’t for you, I promise,

if it weren’t for you

I’d just have an empty room

or not even a room,

but a feeling of room, or a feeling that there is a room

and within that room

there’s so much more room

than there is myself.