19.6.21

Three Poems by Allison Hummel

Drawing

So lately I’ve been drawing,
because writing is a slog, plowing
through peat, never drifting
no rainbow
              just chemtrails
              (only kidding)

I draw amphorae and
can’t draw unguents, but
I like the idea of              all
those people, maybe recumbent
in the cella, inviting a
hyacinth rainbow, skirting
weedy yards of snag        and
                          tribulation

I try to draw a fountain and
settle on a bizarre and
clunky bot.
                            Then
I draw palm trees, mine
maybe the palm that
tumbled              dates for Inanna,
                           back in Sumer,
adjacent to a “caprid”
              (that’s a goat) and
              pubic triangle, per the text.

And no surprise, I draw
the psychic’s hut. In the window
a sign beads with bioluminescent
missive, says: card reader.

Did you know that even some
cockroaches can glow? They
appear as veiled beings
with laser eyes, like figures from
a story about waterless future

or whoever you talk to in the
cella,      incorporeal,
               just a shift in the air 


Anthuriums and Dates

Anthuriums have just been watered
tiny floats for                  slow river  
              of electrolyte zephyr     rain

Springtime is                   soft and pally
No more              depth>delving cold
in the finger bones, no more
days swiftly       detonated by sappers.

I lean into the long day               its
                          lack of implication

tears for fears songs
              roxy music silly stories
                           acrid acid florals
                                         nucleus of a hot car

moments of jelly              vulnerability
& hair dye that feels like tropical        
                                         pudding

wildly variable profusions of       growth !
                           like a spray of ergot in the gold.

Blood work cuneiform coming back          strange
found the salt shaker in the fridge
next to my           cauldron of yogurt
                            and robust intentions

wellness is a gnosis. It’s all
greasy hard to grab        it’s all
liquids                            unassailable

and as the                       heat descends,
every day is a                 date, chewy
heady lovely, literally sickening but
                                       also a pleasure
                                       to hold in my mouth.


Brenda

Brenda incandescent in her tube top
saying ‘hi, what’s your problem?’

she and her girlfriend are
in love, and also are
                           becoming tree

we could all    know that
winnowing      space-dust microbe
on          the     breeze!

Lean you back,         recast you a
shelf of chaga,          a touch

like agate distorting pleasantly
the paean of the gates    of paradise

it’s azure, synthy,          procreative
of a swooping thorax, and         I

can almost follow the ‘s’ of the
cognate              like a goaded snake

from warm place / to warm place
smearing unguents         getting
lit                       emitting low smolder


Allison Hummel