Poem From
Elizabeth
Treadwell
in apple light—she writes—knowing—arms and songs—nothing
ends, see you later, nothing ends, tell me sky: what there is—when
there is not—(selfie as the Duchess of normcore, selfie as all the
human things, paths & objects)—we don't know what we need:
in these seeds, this magic—Jesus or what we called the machine:
aldermen, city council—let’s be rain—skyscrapers, empty tombs:
nothing ends, see you later; sound and vision, broken rooms: mist,
ropes of wind: nothing ends, see you later, nothing ends, tell me
sky: Lilith & the book of days—our native mother whatsay—in
this apple light—she writes: