by Tamara K. Walker
Fluid fragments turn over each other continuously;
melting goldfish becoming their own pond,
the ruthless cycle of amber motif,
the continuous waterwheel of nature/nurture/natural nourishment.
or a metaphor for molecular motion. Diffusion equilibrium.
She takes each "one" up, loves and discards them, discards them conservationally.
; out of a pumice Pez dispenser.
They don't matter, now. To be inside the mind of a process, to grasp unflailingly
the ecstasy of sudden sunlight shed
starkly, blindingly on humble geometries, to shatter violently
the simple structure of crystalline contentment
with the fragrant puce sledgehammer
of treasured ataxia
is to stand upon the scattered
sharp as nanowire,
meaning? meaning, meaning, meaning…
mourning? morning, mourning, morning…
* * * * *
Bio: Tamara K. Walker resides in Colorado and primarily writes short fiction of unusual varieties, as well as poetry often in originally East Asian forms adapted into English—such as tanka and sijo—in addition to ghazals and other forms with a dystopian sensibility. One of her short stories, "Camisole" (The Conium Review, Vol. 4) was a 2015 Pushcart Prize nominee. Her first chapbook, Fabric Heart, is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press. Her fiction has appeared in The Cafe Irreal, A cappella Zoo, The Conium Review and Melusine, among others. Her poems have been published in Lavender Review, indefinite space, The Ghazal Page, Eastern Structures, LYNX, Ribbons, Star*Line, Atlas Poetica, Moonbathing and various other journals. She may be found online at http://tamarakwalker.weebly.com.