The Columbia Review, Fall 2011

Page 6

an accommodation best to the window’s meaning meaning anything containing the large, unclean light darting as the eyes

The Anatomy Lesson

do about a small room still enough is it to stare into, get lost in like I have been asleep a few days. What we have here is a lack of

In a bent and scorched magnolia, my wife read novels to my knots.

communication. And why on reentry our eyes seethed, deadlocked on stare even as the sea swung backward and the above all stain in sky made finding you a function revolved voice, never dare in the darkness of counting more than a spot sense knowing knowing seems safe, back in the hallway

(close holes that sphinctered in relief at touches of enemic thoughts)

Fall 2011

Fall 2011

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11 TheColumbiaReview

My roots were tied in lover’s ankles. dead resin calcified in colonoscopies . but now—my leaves can rest—still and caught like static wind and silent talk.

TheColumbiaReview

now breathing like a painting. Watch, it will again do it for us. Sean, he is going to tell he is going to tell he’s going to tell.

By Jason Bell


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