I have finished the alphabet with my dictionary poems. Here's Y. There's something about the form I find really freeing. I know I really push meaning. Trying to see how far I can go (I guess). Let me know your takeaways. I know your style is more narrative, and this is...well, I am not sure what to call it... elliptical?
yearn / ing
1: I live in the valiant cold.
2: Thoughts insinuate like fish on a shelf,
throwing off my lap blanket.
-- I squealed here as a stone girl.
3: Shunt of water echoes the sea caves.
4: When pressed by a knowing hand, the wing of my shoulder opens. Tightness creaks,
muttering a new mythology.
5: I hurt in places.
a) The sun in my eyes when we kissed, I can't see for the light
b) Deposit of sedimentary strata, sitting still.
6: One son was born in an inlet far away. They clapped
him out of me in an applause of waves.
7: Now, he, too, has a slippery fish.
-- Smile of his father's father calcifies,
8: Eddying pool of water reflects
the gem-sea-blue of my daughter.
9: The eldest, skipping son, rubs clean,
a smooth surface.
10: I could chisel my children
but for the ache.
11: Long ago, I had a friend the name of a note:
12: Her mother was Navajo, chanted long tunnels,
holes in the frozen lake.
a) A changing woman,
her hair in streaks.
b) Her loneliness.
13: My house made of ice.