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2 poems by Esmé Kaplan-Kinsey


teleology


the end does not justify

this means there is only

the broken window

& the knuckles

that spiderwebbed

it, this soft diamond

face there is

only the nuclear power

plant here in

this asphalt field

this hot-tar

face only

a means

to exhaust

exhaustion

it’s hot out

white shadeless

here, there

is only

oil to fuel

the engines

wind to turn

the turbines

sun to charm crops

from the dirt

& it’s exhausted

it’s soft it’s broken

it’s hot out

here at the end



Sirens on 82nd Street


in the frozen yogurt shop,

an aquarium. a blue-eyed baby.

bad romance throbbing from

a single distant speaker. the fish

a darting living neon. i want

your ugly i want your disease. something

tragic has occurred–the wail of it

rattles the plate-glass.

we eat mango frozen

yogurt with gummy bears.

the baby crawls

to the aquarium. presses

palms to its glow.

by the far wall, choosing

between raspberry and lemon sorbet,

mother’s mouth traces oh

oh-oh-oh oh. fish mouth bubbles

quiet silver. and my own

throat catching unwillingly

at the beat. we are all singing

silently in this yogurt shop.

bassline curves upward. baby

strokes glass. love love

love i want your love.

beneath the siren’s scream

we are all singing.



___________________

Esmé Kaplan-Kinsey is a California transplant attending college in Portland, Oregon. Their work has been recognized by the National YoungArts Foundation, the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards, and appears in journals such as Gone Lawn and No Contact Mag. They are a mediocre guitarist, an awe-inspiring procrastinator, and an awful swimmer.


These poems were chosen by Anthropocene Guest Editor Tom Branfoot

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