by: Valerie Witte
Valerie Witte’s poems are layered constructions that bend, break, and reform as they enact the density of experience mediated through language. In them, rupture is a type of cohesion or coherence, a song of shifts and intrusions that makes our brokenness whole…
[6.1]
Was she always discolored synthetic, fragile or adequately
crossed what a face must do to produce
expressions Where she encountered moisture, tarnishing flexibility
methods, cartilage might fail so we can never
quite convey the secrets of our own embroidery
enfolded, those weft- and warp-intensive weaves She
understood the lightness of infants but when kilned
into a composite whole consider boiling ourselves there the scales
of dragons gilded, indigenous She was said to contain more
than twice the number of intermittent hues
[6.2]
Two derivative skins, blistered because shrinkage
is sometimes reversible readily creating voids A “spinal cord” interlaced
sheers swagged a way of hanging waste the white
of lead imparting a pallor Yet she tried lightening
at least once a day as seen from the front
or back, printed both sides fossilized what we attempt when wet
exploited by machines: we are almost human, anyway
[6.3]
To safeguard only suitable eggs Upon entering
the rust series an impervious barrier
of spaces a way of silencing Suggested in caves her curves were remnants
or secluded recesses a heavy coat to protect
against desiccation, inner shards
and reservoirs Her affected parts discarded venoms
are mechanisms for evaporation such as panting, shorelines thick
with prey where few linger relentless, prowling
for worms, a womb inside which we are incubated
[6.4]
When we are transformed clawless out of the water Also
the red garments are tents of deprivation by means of leaves
or lungs: ventilation lost Any organ unusable at times, decayed
could resemble a bellows “I thought life was boring, I thought
I was boring despite disruption in glades
or swamps But it was just my hair the flesh of evergreens fallen
to feed and harvest a handful in the southern
hemisphere our pigmentation richer But then I dyed it and I feel
so much better Hair is everything” reassembly
[6.5]
Predicting our future
hides we retain the cool until Honeycombed
for silver, for cohesion her reading of landscapes
muted amid dampening
tea, silk raw, when engines were vital such canopies
of cords are essentially love and esteem
trains nylon safe as bullet-proof vests attesting
to the longevity of torsos enclosed When all she wanted
was evening
Valerie Witte is a member of Kelsey Street Press, which publishes experimental writing by women; and she is a co-founder of the Bay Area Correspondence School, which aims to explore the impact of digital culture on contemporary writers. Her first book, a game of correspondence, was published in April 2015 (Black Radish Books); and her chapbook, The history of mining, was published in 2013 (g.e. collective/Poetry Flash). Her work has also appeared in more than 30 literary journals, including VOLT, Diagram, Dusie, Alice Blue, Shampoo, Interim, and elsewhere. In 2014 she began a collaboration with Chicago-based artist Jennifer Yorke, and their work based on her writing has appeared in exhibitions in the U.S. and France. Valerie holds an MFA in Writing degree from the University of San Francisco.
