"Like a pebble,"
producing a pearl, by luck
unstrung or not.
Unhappy necklace laced
with one stop, pause, and it's
then another and on.
Anon. Choice swims
clear as jellyfish. Pellucid;
translucent as spit.
Bits of cartilage are
floating in my shoulder joint,
thickening like pearls
inside an oyster shell. An MRI is
prescribed but still, the doctor doesn’t
really know what’s there or where.
Lucidity
is diminishing, information
flits ludicrous in bits and bytes.
Joints rub all ways to argue amid
a damp fugue of barometric pressure
and deltoid shrugs. I can’t hook my
bra and grit my teeth to reach a plate.
Fuck all, obviate these diminishments.
With my left toe flexing little
and my lumbar spine
encroached, it's obvious that
data can be skewed, perhaps
elude, not ever even
pellucid.
Aileen Bassis is a visual artist in Jersey City working in book arts, printmaking, photography and installation. Her artwork can be viewed at www.aileenbassis.com. She’s exploring another creative life as a poet. In the past year, her poems have found homes in over 20 publications, including Gravel Magazine, Milo Journal, Specs Journal, Spillway, Still Point Arts Quarterly, Amoskeag.
Kelly Nelson
My Uncle at Nineteen
His Mother Writes
the Warden, 1955
Jon-Michael Frank
Funny How Time Slips Away
Not Fade Away
Jacqueline Jules
Obsolete Angers
J. Bradley
Yelp Review:
Planned Parenthood
of Greater Orlando
Yelp Review:
The Milk Bar
Amy Schriebman Walter
Hope in a Yellow Dress
Miho Kinnas
Earlobes
Mark Povinelli
Notes I
Notes II
Kenneth Nichols
The Best Writers
Bombed the SAT
John Patsynski
The Money Weapon
Aileen Bassis
Pellucid Musing
Travis Macdonald
When the Map's Crease
Becomes an Axis
and Detaches
Kris Hall
Pyromanian I
Pyromanian II
Claire Scott
Harbor Lights
Elizabeth Kate Switaj
Poseidon's Canto