Three Poems from NYMPHLIGHT: Erin Lyndal Martin

I Want to be Drunk with You So I Can See You Laugh:
Les Amants du Pont-Neuf

You, my lover, the fire-eater, lay with me atop
the oldest bridge that crosses the Seine,

the wine making us hoot and yell.
Booms of light flared and blasted,

so we stood atop the bridge looking
at Paris—our Paris—and waiting for debris.

It was only fireworks, les feux d’artifice,
only their neon hair echoing and splattering.

I reached for my father’s gun and asked you
to count the bullets. Are there fifteen? Good.

That’s seven for me, seven for you,
and one for luck. For luck

amidst the crumbling fire and your bare arms
raised to catch the gun.

You covered your ears when I mounted
the statue of Henry IV, shooting under the sky’s confetti.

I waltzed in the light of the blooming flame,
swung my arms wild when the guitars kicked in.

The city was made of sparks.
I fell into you.

This was one fire you could not eat.

 

On Slavko Vorkapich’s Forest Murmurs

“Our voices pinned to the trees”
—Dan Beachy-Quick

whispering climbs + pines sweating sap + the moon encased by sky + we are lovers, our skin blurry with want + the trees taller than nightmares + are where we take turns on our backs while the canopy sways + & the owls cocked their heads + the water, a ghostly oasis in the distance + we had stepped into it once before + how it rushed + urgent as unzipping + full as the stratus clouds tinged with moonglow like Spanish moss + the spider webs steeled with rain + & by day the birds that are sleeping that will break free

 

Kurt Kren’s Asyl 31/75

Some light is given
some light is taken away

some light is light
some light blooms like a virus
and some light is trees
or bridges or people that simply disappear

I too have disappeared through a pinhole

Some light reveals snow—I did not reveal snow

My absence alone was mute and meaningless
as the cry of a tree’s bark

Is silly alone, but when rubbed against
another, creates a spark, a fire, a sound,

and a song approaches.

***

Erin Lyndal Martin is poet, fiction writer, music journalist, and music promotional writer based in Madison, Wisconsin. Her work has appeared in Gulf Coast, Bat City Review, and DIAGRAM.

Photo credit: Castlass, morguefile.com

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