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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. 

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

ignis fatuus.

with a burst of resolve, he lifts his chin

the effigy could be melting, pooling at his soles

an afternoon in august, some year past

a heap of clean white, discarded shirts


still, the silhouette of a bird

singing coyly above

a browning bush, her leaves curling away

from the blazing sun


she never could have turned

it wasn’t his fault, and he carried it all


sweat on his back, he lifts the last box

the infinite pavement could be the sea

the air could drown young souls

he pretends he can swim for the shore


© july 2011 heather brager

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

going back.




we’re only oceanside
for a few moments

then locked in the
land stretched below

these are the trees
beside stacked rocks

the continental divide
and you drive too fast

cornering, my language
of upland truckers

we’re always heading west,
east and back again


© july 2011 heather brager

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

versus.



she will be your

inevitable stretch


cunning misconduct

against silken linens


compulsory tonic

a perfectly weighted glass


tastefully painted nails

in the midst of a january squall


she will be the artist

in company of banal accountants


calculating your future

movement with measured vigor


she will integrate flour and water

stir, and preheat the oven


© july 2011 heather brager



Wednesday, July 13, 2011

no regret, and morning.

her tenable

sapphire eyes

undercover shadows

hushed beside cool walls,

in corners

an acrid sentiment

of guilt

with muted lividity

as reply

she is posed

in question

lips drawn in,

a wilting rose

a motion for

resurrection

waking,

to lucidity

© july 2011 heather brager

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

the art of autonomy.

muffled words are caught, a cappella

monochromatic accord, the background rush

of dying high prairie grasses

the insects hum nomadic echoes

through the expanse of vacant space

behind the house

in the ear drum, in the mind’s tired eye

discussions and denotations

of broken insight

a moment free from gray contemplation

the curse of intuitive impulse, the unspoken commands

symbiotic attachment fraught with weight

the burden of neglected back stories

solace in the quiet sky

the acrimony of cyclical loss

this conversation becomes art

poetry is the memory

of her face turning away

the image of a sunrise reflecting on the hood

at the corner of College and Main

the train sounding at 3:00 a.m.

with ice clinking in a glass

and no visible summit

just a song through the speakers

and layers hidden under paint

© july 2011 heather brager