Isabel de Andreis’s poems have appeared in Orbis, Bind Collective, Briefly Zine, and elsewhere.
the sleep waker
naked feet are pressed into naked
rocks their edges smoothed by water
fall providing comfort to said
feet the buzz of wildlife deep inside
my head by route of the lovely ears is
the sunbeam to my skin [the scent
of rain plus a million plants inside
my head by route of the lovely nose
this time] I am a sleep waker as I wake
to consciousness I relinquish all
control to the reliable embrace of honest
and trustworthy relatives of mine I have it
all at once and they give it all at once to
me all I do is take in my sleep—awakening
(no title)
there was a sort of humming in
the air at two forty two pm not the
comfort rattling of the washing
machine nor the buzz floating from
the mouth of the two-metres-away-
human nor indeed the purr gliding
out of the multiple-a-second-flickers
of the guitar string that had just been
pulled by the same human’s right index
finger no this humming seemed to belong
to an altogether different category of sound
almost as if no sound at all but not
imagined as an abstract concept either
I don’t think it’s here anymore now
I liked it when it was