Posts Tagged: Alissa Quart
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A Poem By Alissa Quart

Instrumental

There, reading against the traffic, a car crash between chapters.

Alphabet via street signs. C is for Con Ed.

Kids music meant an actual kid, singing to herself

past all the silent billboards.

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Then those days—when you were starting out, as they say—you were sulfur

frozen at Odeon

when strapped to the masthead, every remark, aside, sharpened.

The table by the mirror reserved for all the baby lionesses.

And now. You are living the app. A pop-up. La Vida App!

Too many words, not enough ears.

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A Poem By Alissa Quart

Degrees

This town is a proverb: a woman waiting. Thoughts have citations, skies are marine. All this strong weather. Chance is dead or just got tenure. Mt. Olympus is a tea. Fleeced heads loll on valedictory brick. Jam jar gaslights hold not much new.

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A Poem By Alissa Quart

Views

Anorectic transplant flashes skins at fashion sisters, Liquid Paper arms, vanishes as an and into an aesthetic. Home

a lead painted hut. An occupational art therapist makes luxury cubes. She photo shops. A liberal arts stripper silver collars herself, souvenir to man’s bad taste.