• Two Love Poems by Mariesa Bus

    And Hera sent gadflies in pursuit Tethered to the tree, Iocould speak onlywith her great eyes.And so I never wroteyou many letters, thoughwords rose up throughmy fingers like unbornBraille, though I strungsentences by their feetlike dead pheasants,it was too late—words were not privy tothis new language.             While I loved you,             I remained a beast. O heavenly powers, restore her! 1852: the Studio of JohnMillais, her cavernous earsholding echoes underwaterlike sea caves, Lizzie Siddalhears the muted rattleof her own shallowbreath, holds stillin spite of her shivering,as she has practiced.The last time her eyesstrained to see downthe length of the tub, toeswere…

  • In the Bellows by Mariesa Bus

    Foggy-breathed and hand in hand with you, I am aware that as we watch over our sleepy city like a set of mossy gargoyles the trains below are not bustling, but laboring in the slow and judicious way of sheep through the slaughter chute, old women in museums, the trauma in our bloodlines. You are silent and near me, a hermit returned from the mountain whose thoughts I savor like honey at the bottom of a tea cup. Your deep voice is a beginning: the pinball sprung and rolling, and it is an end: drunken ghosts in an old saloon, shot down, reliving their quarrels unceasingly. In the middle, we…