Christine Hamm's Blog
RSS
May.18.2013
Breach
A crack. A creak. A groan. From the other side of the wracked fence, horses peer into the ditch. Hooves scrape away moss. Stones scatter from the pile by the crossroad. Disinterested sheep float, are floating, into green marshes. Air, like tiny pale socks, hangs misty...
Continue Reading »
Mar.29.2013
The Lost Needle
Ornery, you called me, crystalline,
fluttering.
Stars on wands, stuck in gravel near the mailbox,
indicated a turn.
Your breath made them stir.
At night, the pinwheels glowed faint green, wavered.
Japanese beetles, glinting like apples,
swarmed...
Continue Reading »
1 comment
Mar.05.2013
After Image
Outside, a field bent by a recent snow. A truck idles by the shed. Red, surrounded by a black wavering cloud. I have your necklace in my boot. The music of faulty tractors, the milking shed crying and bleating. Blackened egg shells by the tip of the hose. Our dog flings...
Continue Reading »
Feb.23.2013
Origin Story
On the hospital lawn, we perch,
knees touching. The blue swallows
...
Continue Reading »
2 comments
Jan.25.2013
Popsicle Stick Castle
We lost the cookbook, found it in the bathtub.
Added hot water from a rusty spigot. Added used matches.
We unplugged the lights, the blowdryer.
Doors chimed open and closed, the windows boiling black.
You dreamed I spit on the curtains, and...
Continue Reading »
Jan.17.2013
Re-animate
I. Bones and gold and lilac, various freckled colors.
Three-year-old skeletons can taunt even after their heads are removed. Her story about what happens to the white stunt horse after filming makes you skirt the lake for a year. She says, “I see you” until your...
Continue Reading »
Jan.11.2013
Dress Rehearsal – Christine Hamm
Someone calling, Mira, Mira, not so close.
A white lake. Something frozen, stepping
on something frozen and uneven. The seagulls
clatter, pull the clouds into filaments. The moon,
a lopsided mouth, enters your body and you
drown again. Last...
Continue Reading »
Jan.06.2013
Fallout
You cover your eyes and point.
Here. No, here. The nurses enter
carrying bricks, their breath
clotting our tiny ditch. Here.
Where the blister starts:
memory's petting zoo.
This time, you be sorry.
I'm busy digging a hole
where we both can live...
Continue Reading »
Jan.01.2013
Three Sisters, Oregon
Fireflies fell regularly into
The tents, scrambled in the corner of the lodge, smelled of urine and
You were crying, locked in the Porto-San, and no one could
The raccoons, all dark hands and musk, crawled in through
One of the counselors in the hot tub said
I took the...
Continue Reading »
1 comment
Dec.21.2012
Two Posies
Our nurse caps askew. Bobby pins trailing. Fake clouds, pulled from the insides of pillows, strewn between the replanted pines. The lawn glowing behind everything as we ran.
We left a piece of you behind on that hospital bed. The wrong kind of humour leaking from your...
Continue Reading »
1 comment
Dec.09.2012
Prints
Found face down in the toilet, toenails newly painted and smudged, a black lace glove on her right hand. Two dollars’ worth of dimes sprayed on the carpet near her bed.
You asked me how long I had known about the spot on her left lung, about the bills she was paying for a...
Continue Reading »
Dec.04.2012
Hypnagogia
You can see my ribs coming out my eyes. You can see. You can.
I once had a dog with a girl’s name. He took the name and he shook it, like a dog shakes a rat in a field. Listen, now. The floor bends and moans like an old hip. It’s called “creak” or “...
Continue Reading »
3 comments
Dec.02.2012
A Bouquet of Things Other Than Flowers
For example, buttons. For example, half-eaten persimmons. You kneel in front of me, claiming you don’t have lice. Verbs to fit into this sentence: hush, sweep, cough, man-handle, howl, water. For example, the color of your shoes...
Continue Reading »
2 comments
Nov.18.2012
I am Reading
your dream journal. In it, a tree arches down to the sidewalk, spreads its branches, becomes a large Brown Recluse. You continue sinking slowly into the river; you continue trying to light your stove with a slipper. Your mother appears on the back of the spider...
Continue Reading »
2 comments
Nov.15.2012
One chapter in my dissertation is on Marianne Moore -- http://poetrycrush.com/2012/11/15/marianne-moore/
Continue Reading »
About Christine
Christine Hamm is a PhD candidate in English Literature at Drew University. She won the MiPoesias First Annual Chapbook Competition with her manuscript, Children Having Trouble with Meat. Her poetry has been published in The Adirondack Review, Pebble Lake...
Connections
