Two Poems | Zoë Hitzig | Granta

Two Poems

Zoë Hitzig

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at sunset, the steepest steps, never thought you’d
see me sweat, canter up and down the canyon,
landscape of terrycloth, sky with its machine-wash fade,
acid-wash shades of slate, dismount to mount again

the canyon, somehow you are your own meridian,
you hold the date line like a blade, your blade becomes
my only banister, just like that, your state is born, no state
of confusion, just like that, I’m just your state, state of play,

of the union, california, too late, too early, early too
so very late, claw its way into the day, selling fruit,
selling futures, futures north of food and fictions,
bottom-line the violent caption, no this is not

attraction, yes the fruit fields by the highway, yes
the berry heavy wind, yes I think the dolphin’s dead,
why not just delete this clip, can’t we uninstall the beach,
strangers’ laundry, rolled up wet, dump it on the bench,

now I’m on the palisades, see you sailing there in parallel,
I turn around, sink to sit, shoulder blade against a baluster

 

 

 

 

 

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overexposed, too blue morning, was it you or me
driving that day, crossing the tracks, between switchbacks,
on the mountain pass, can’t remember, who saw the train
first, who backed into the, who was driving when,

what of the whiplash after, whose idea was it to,
trap our months in that book, twitched out of grasp,
tape the moths on the film roll, watch their wings lace,
now when I look at you, here in the parking lot,

streetlights make nets on your face, the rain
on the windshield, nets on your face you say
undertow is the clockwork ocean, undertow is a fragile
tenancy, we’ll twitch awake twice tonight, tomorrow

we spin the child, spin spin, fall down dizzy, walking
is falling, walking is falling, walking is when, we finally
stop moving, when the motion stops, you or me stops,
turn the headlights off, wait wait I love this song,

please don’t turn the car off, disarm each streetlight,
blur out the lot, shivering outline in the dark

 

Image © hjk_888

Zoë Hitzig

Zoë Hitzig’s second collection of poems, Not Us Now, will be published in summer 2024. Her first book, Mezzanine, was published in 2020.

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