4.21.21
my friend sends me, Brooklyn
a reminder uncounted
she guides me softly through many-miles
forever towards nothing
the hedges grow in-between metal gates
but pictures bridge the rivers
they spread over March like
Tama Impala, lost in it
and grates that cannot block the city
because a leftover can’t stay
sunset-stained, a skyscraper
we are already years from one-another
a rosy headstone through a little-phone
and her snowy office window
it was yesterday
Maxine Flasher-Düzgüneş is a Turkish-American hybrid artist. Her visual poems have been published in TriQuarterly, Pinky Thinker Press, Rail Switch Poetry, Variety Pack Zine and exhibited at Drawing Room SF, Foxyard Studio, and Cadence Video Poetry Festival. www.poeticabythebay.com