C.N.P Poetry 

  • Cathexis Northwest Press

181110 an intruder takes me out of my slumber,; 181012 the neighbor's birch; 181009 the wheel

By: Zixiang Zhang


181110 an intruder takes me out of my slumber,

leaves being wrinkled, aspens arrest the person of my interior, after footage reveals the foul. i’d wring the working line  from your mind.  i detest its motion,  that self-surrender to the silence one chooses.  i am deigned blue in my life-force bubble. weather crinkles walnut leaves. squashes of orange  dot the taconic drive. a little cold turns the berkshires to bergs. a meander of the wind reaches the reading room: sun particles turn black a crown of vines. morning spills its dew. i defend my rest from old loves through tosses in the timber’s chest;  i’d lose the sleeper  who broke my slumber.

181012 the neighbor's birch

leaves from another man’s yard keep falling on my asphodels. merriment  should be in shackles,  but it irons dress-shirts in october wind— a humid depletion of metropolis mesmerizes me. dust in the storm congeals,  leaves are buried, then begriefed. i see the neighbor’s man as my friend, planted with me for as long as i live, enchanted by charcoal in the air, or shoot/cambium over vapor, stupor on his pillar swing from statues of chairs sitting on colossal ants. many are alien to me. they see a tree. bee, i.e.

181009 the wheel

through the sieve through  which the bodies of all forty four  presidents catch fire and light is day;  look how the barriers are emboldened, in treatise with mist and broken waves over them. the pendulum swinging proves we’re spinning. inside shadows that are long  at the poles but not non-existent, because we face the universe from so many poles,  we’re red to them  and everyone who wants a country before the rudiments; remember this, cogs like yours spin around the world. i was a sailor first; to barter in the magellanic clouds in the voids beyond;  to be grateful for the battered goose or mouthy crabs along the shore. the end is distemper on air; hurricane michael gains a rotor, drowns his witnesses in the stratosphere. if we are to move after october, we’d move to south florida in that hemisphere of spun water.





Zixiang Zhang teaches earth science, is extremely forgetful, and says yes as a general principle.

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