A Poem by Laura Winton

Please           Elapse          Asleep

 

Purple fog

lights the amber
evening I stumble
across the river home
snow white the sky fluorescent
even you cannot turn the light out on this night.

Every day the clock stops

late in the
afternoon, the hours
pound through my slow pulse ears the
scraping of pencil to paper,
eraser to words.

Afternoon drowses warm in the

sunlight your shadow
lingers on me my
eyes concentrate on wires and cable
earnest to seek you on the other side.
Prickled fingers are typing your name.

Laura Winton is a poet and a spoken word and performance artist currently living in Minneapolis. She has performed her work in New York, Chicago, and London in addition to the Minnesota Twin Cities and her poetry has been published in dozens of little magazines and websites around the country. She also published Karawane: Or, the Temporary Death of the Bruitist, a journal of experimental performance texts from 1997-2008. She is also an academic whose work is on the liberation of the imagination as a political act. She likes Dada, Surrealism, and any writing that is not immediately understood by the conscious mind.