Clade Song 2

dirigible earth

this is a letter, call it a tipped topography
a mortar sphere for the descendants of earth
this is the snail trail, the gloss between you and meadow
you think all this concrete is not--you are romantic and silly
this swamp, devourer of corners, smoldering ‘round dry beds
finch full of caliper feet
dirigible earth, we need you
take this apple, this apple is for you
don’t eat the seeds unless you plan to plant your stomach
the mountains all but a calville blanc
all the rotisseries—the salt and the acid moons
the night builders use prongs and woe more than me
and we with the torches set the nearly dead to cinder
dirigible earth, take me
I might be worse than you, singing these songs a little daemon made
gut all tot with needlepoint
I read your books, canister and backwash
I’ll apple your tree and place purple lithium in your garden
I turn membranes over in my mouth like peppermints
leaves turn brown from black and white
I’ll see you again when the earth is oil and I am bread
oh your head is a gun
I’ll see you in the morn with your cockles and waves
dirigible earth, you sexy thing

Tarle Naomi Tarle grew up in Santa Monica, California and currently resides in San Diego. She received her MFA in creative writing from Boise State University. She is currently earning a second MFA in printmaking and book arts at San Diego State University. Her poems have been featured in SHAMPOO, Word/for Word and other publications. If she weren’t a writer she would be something else. One day she hopes to have a garden.