Two poems by Laurie Blauner

Laurie Blauner

Laurie Blauner

Laurie Blauner is the author of four novels and seven books of poetry. Her latest novel, called The Solace of Monsters, won the Leapfrog Fiction contest, was a finalist for the 2017 Washington State Book Award in Fiction, and was included in a list of best 2016 Indie books from Bookriot. Her essays have appeared in PANK, december, and Your Impossible Voice among other places. This essay is from a manuscript of essays titled I Was One of My Memories.


No response and the world became more world. The animal slept in leaves, a noisy weight, pieces from an occasional sky. I went to hold the animal and its surprise teeth. There was an introduction, guesses, jargon. Fur in my face and I wanted to offer a piece of my hand. Claws and I delivered my testimony. My human part began its own devices:

I told the animal one from the herd is sacrificed to save the others. (The animal fed on a figment of bird.) 

I explained how to forget.
(Stars salted our skin every night.)

I told a story about water's disobedience. 
(And the animal knew it could make me do whatever it wanted.)




Don't Ask Me

I find another and teeter over the dance floor. Strangers, with wet hands and bodies that take short cuts, are borrowed, and reflected in mirrors. I snag a sleeve, confess red lipstick on a starched shirt. There isn't much to discover in these entanglements except that feetkeep on moving. Our effort is covered with a music that drifts and then begins to whisper.Keep your head up, rings out. A flock of birds only suggests a direction. Our hands stretch, legs. I get lost in repetition and recognition. I lose my way. He gloves my hand, my eyechecks the distance between us. Step closer. We are all made of such small parts.