Read My Poem — We Burn
As the second in my Read My Poem series, I invited some people to record themselves reading the text for a poem called "We Burn" the way they would read it, and present here their voices.
You can scroll down to listen to all the recordings. Or you can check out the three soundcloud playlists:
We Burn
Brothers at Lakeside
The Salience of Sunset
We Burn
There are bowls on our
windowsills. Bowls of clear
broth, never boiled or broken—
insoluble domes of oil, a whole
carcass in the pot, slices of
unpeeled ginger, a lemon maybe—
some moments we want to
unzip our hot stomachs onto the
subway floor, or tumble.
hands outstretched, for the third
rail which will allow us to regain
light speed—
steam lifts off the surface of
the broth. Deep in the bowl,
the heat is churning the liquid
invisibly, fields of oil coil and
separate. The spoon is coated
with it, lively and bright
going in, coated like plasma
coming out.