Home » new poems, Poetry

Alaska Epithalamium

By (June 1, 2014) No Comment

Love punched my brains out like
Artie in the post office parking lot—
“A big Samoan hit me and now it feels
like there’s computers in my eye.”
Everything big and distorted like
the 19-hour days and the 19-hour nights,
mountains balding into summer now
as tourist traffic materializes onto streets
we first learned empty and white. All
I want: to explore the wilderness of Costco
with you in the Anchorage Dimond District,
buy a new set of Tupperware with red
lids and smooth sides. To be tamed
with you and tell you every night
which are stars, planes, and satellites.

Alyse Knorr is the author of the full-length collection Annotated Glass (Furniture Press Books, 2013) and the chapbook Alternates (dancing girl press, 2014). She earned her MFA in poetry from George Mason University. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Denver Quarterly, Drunken Boat, Caketrain, ZYZZYVA, Puerto Del Sol, and The Southern Poetry Anthology (Texas Review Press 2012), among others. She has received artist’s residencies at the Vermont Studio Center, New York Mills Arts Retreat, and the Millay Colony. She teaches at the University of Alaska Anchorage and co-edits Gazing Grain Press.