February 2007 - Issue 10
eleventh.transmission
arts, culture, media, activism
All work copyright
the respective
owner.  Nothing
may be reproduced
without consent.
POEMS


Poems by Lara Thesenvitz


Surfacing

Surface
from dreamless sleep
on the air mattress in the corner
of the worn out one room
flat

turn naked eyes to me

the sky outside the windows
is glass, gray and dust
impossible to tell dawn from dusk

and I don’t care

I’ve been wrapped
in lips and limbs
laughing patchwork
and strange chemicals
for days

These walls are the perimeter
when you are here
and I am here

with the television flashing
and the room mates pretending at sleep
ten feet away

skin, sinew and bone
ease open like snake jaw
under the silk
trace of your hair on my thigh

you melt into me
I melt into you

This is the suspended moment
between leap
and land

you press into me
I press into you

you reach into me
I reach into you

The city outside the windows
is glass, dust and gray
impossible to tell yesterday
from today

and I don’t care

I’ve been rapt
by lips and limbs
laughing patchwork
and strange chemicals
for days

These walls are the perimeter
when you are here
and I am here

surface
from dreamless sleep
an the air mattress in the corner
of the worn out one room
flat

turn naked eyes to you


Anna Calls

Anna never calls
until last call
when Anna calls her rings sound like
fresh bruises
and crocodile tears

2am on a Tuesday
Anna’s calling
she always thinks she loves me
when she’s crawling

she says
it’s a dark day, would you lend me your light?
she says
it’s a dying day, would you give me your life?

Anna’s in the alley again
Anna’s on her knees again
Anna’s opened up again
Anna’s falling in again

It’s way too late
when Anna calls


January

Cold
Chemical
On the corner
She’s seeking

Twitch mumble sketch stumble
Shrieking

Layed out
Realized
Bloodied
Bruised
Baptized

January
She’s born again

January
She’s gone again


Kitchen

The ghosts
of ten thousand cigarettes
and some mystery stain

time slowed drip
of grime
still life left behind
tequila memory
flashback good time

These things never really come clean


North Face

He came in through the north facing window
She wondered if he was real

Older than his smile
Younger than his eyes

Dirty fingers shoved deep
Into second hand pockets

He saw memory braided into her hair
Asked her to loosen it, set it free

They held each other down
Drank themselves under the noise

Woke drowned
In quiet and blame

She left through the north facing window
He wondered if she was real




Biography
A recent transplant from Edmonton, Lara Thesenvitz now lives, works, dances, shouts, loves, and writes in Calgary
Alberta.  More of her recent work can be found at
www.stangeststrangers.blogspot.com.