From Here, The Road A change is coming, I an uproar, I a whimper of willow breaking against the soft stagger of animal fur, I and, have been waiting for awhile now- for this. Your visions of reality, a misinterpretation of desire. You say it's all right, we embrace. You say it's all right but there's still this vacancy, wish, and expectation. Still, there's fractures all throughout- a fissure in the veil; splintered timber blown down by a whisper, to remain bare against the face of, I shake my head, fasten my eyes fixed open. I remember seasons, I remember the weight lifted when Autumn- an alter- had become fall- a gesture-. When pastel mountains of alabaster had turned to air, taking the gravel and debris elsewhere. When notably, there was a moment and now there is only reflection, a faltering baldachin to which I offer what little prayers I can.
Montana Svoboda is a queer poet based in East Lansing, Michigan. With a focus on vivid, naturalist imagery and existentialist themes that transcend time and place, their poetry is dreamy, dizzying yet grounding, firmly rooted in movement and moment, ultimately seeking to question the experience of reality, to wonder really, what it means to be human.
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