Elise Houcek

And Dare I See

Look at how candid I feel
like some sleep in front of me
without me, tireless, a world from home
and less an hour mile from shell. Aloof
but growth set to the tune
of dense rainforests
populated by bright macaws and the s’s of miles of snakes is sure
true and would often comfort me. I’d go outside
and brace the lunchables of winter winds
to set up trains in parking
lots and smoke from aisles of space. One set of gloves
I wore while smoking, and when finished
dropped into
the coat I found in bristled briars one spring

I knew myself before it
The coddled wisp of new found grass
A bloke of coasts unsettled down in ocean’s
forecast a lewd syringe
I was in trust
I was a foal of
much better howls in spite of what’s said
to be for me

What’s said to be for me is not always for me.
I know this now as you know bad.
I know this as the wrist of all that’s
wicked knows the will of weak.
I know that’s it.
I know I can make them turn to frost and
I can also make them settle down to finches
I know I can sing a song of cost.
I know English

A graduate of Notre Dame’s MFA in poetry, Elise Houcek writes, makes pastel drawings, and is a hospice volunteer. Recent work has appeared in TAGVVERK, Mercury Firs, Keith LLC and APARTMENT Poetry. She lives with her boyfriend and two cats, Sand and Billy.