Poetry from Jessica Anne Robinson

Photo: Erda Estremera

spring thaw (ii)

i am craving spring like a dead lung /
swallowing sun like dew, sucking leaves off
eyes closed and daydreaming sounds of rushing
water when i pass the dirty glacier streams still
frozen to the face of sloping lawns.
i’m in the doorway watching albums / only
peaches, and
yellows, and

really i / just want to sit in a cemetery where
i’m not expected to remember,
where the yellow grass might be
mistaken for light
if your head is not preoccupied.
sure, it’s romantic: the feeling of carrying fruit
out in the open. it’s an awful lot easier
to feel the beat of the ecosystem when
the ground has thawed
and there’s peat on the ass of your jeans.


Jessica Anne Robinson is finally a Toronto writer, which is to say she recently moved from the suburbs into the actual city. She has had poetry published with Hart House Review, The Anti-Langorous Project, Coven Editions, and Room Magazine, among others. She loves virtual farming and making collages out of magazines. You can find her anywhere @hey_jeska.

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