Sous Rature




Sarah Birl




Origami Tango Confetti

The crease step-tiers into a barrage of slits
and entry.  Auras arranged press into our
sequined words as I watch you fold poems
into delicate loti and a houseboat abloat
with lantern lit bodies spinning, sweating
small tilts of coloured paper.




O how slips the styptic diptych of breadth.
A flip switch kitsch strips.  Fitfully.




The fractyling nocturne hangers uncertainty,
decides which skein to skate and which to sheath
bequeathing sheets and stampedes.  Silesia opens;
scratch-swatching a node, a mode, a niche
of lullabies that by day stomp into a boomerang-cradle
shorn drawly.  At night, unleashed, the streets creed.



Home    Current Issue    Archives   Guidelines   Statement    User's Guide    Links    necessetics