Two Poems by Amber Lone
Curves of, twisted, splayed ears are trays.
Billowing rounds, tossed, dance a blistered brown
on thavah we can’t translate, nor griddle, there is no ridge or edge,
on the ironmonger’s pot. No legs.
Woman kneading, pounding, rolling.
Woman clapping discs in abraded palms,
bending, fire-walking, eating last.
Scorched soles, burnt heart, threshed.
Birth of me, birth of sisters, birthed for it.
Bread rises, grass fires kiss the sky’s livered parts.
Molten swords, bone cored, heat anew, alive.
Don’t share or re-use anything,
Discarded words are a risk to others.
Return your used words to us.
We can dispose of your used words safely.
We are now collecting,
Discarded words could jeopardize the future.
In the future we will collect electronically.
Found poem from a sign at a pharmacy counter instructing patients about medical equipment