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"Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard." Anne Sexton 

Heather Brager is a critically acclaimed juggler of calamity, an accomplished procrastinator, and shuffler of idioms. Her poetry and drawings can be found in various digital and print journals around the globe, and on the web.  She currently resides in New England and prefers the precipice of where the Atlantic meets the sand to the official looking office where she spends most of her time. 

Tuesday, March 29, 2011


weaves even, odd

the usual anatomic voices
weep neon, unspoken
with common, intermittent pattern

accept, except
suspicion blaring, muffled
with static running,
over telephone lines

synthetic diatoms
cold, queries build
stones will sink

clouds are vapor,
and dirt

© 3.29.11 heather brager

Monday, March 21, 2011

Lost time.

we adjust the clocks ahead, and back
pausing, sometimes in moments
of inanimate decompression
and we lay still and warm in tenderness, cocooned
stifled, resolving to awaken transformed

then the alarm sounds and we’re there, again
with high pitched echoes down the long hall

in the mutual air, shared
I am often waiting for the knife
clumsy with my cuts, my fingers have always suffered
but not nearly as much
as my heart

we adjust the doors, slamming and locking
hesitant to open again, while we scale walls
balancing on our wavering habits
and dodging, the fodder for fear
we hold in our mouths
and our hands

© 3.21.11 heather brager

Tuesday, March 8, 2011


fear runs us again
slipping into dim corners
lying with the dust

© 3.8.11 heather brager