I'm enjoying the work of poet Heather Christle. I came across her poems in Octopus #6, an online journal. "Five Poems for America" are particularly great. I've adapted/stolen the following lines from this poem for something I'm working on (see below):
in a small car, but we all fit.
The title of this post is from her Trunkless.
Have you seen this? A guy, through a series of trades or barters (14 in all) manages to trade his initial single red paperclip for an actual house in a small Saskatchewan town. And I wasn't able to trade my liver for a salami.
ORDERS OF MAGNITUDE
to our small ears, but we all fit
teeth on a small jawed shark
a thousand people on an island no bigger than
any green noun or
Some think our small ears
which are magnificent and
Magnificence in a tiny car
shouldering the pink road
an unfurled map, giant
fluttering the rolled-down half dawn
How do we know
the thousand shrunken ears of stars
a pink light reaching
very brief Marx brother time
atto and zepto and yoctoseconds
the disco ball in the heart
a mosaic of shiny blood
Jack Robinson! he has no time to blink