Stephanie Martz document every orchid a woman swam out of my
sugar snuffed out like a
cigarette butt shoved against the dirt of a
potted plant smell the softness touch everything
lightly kindly let my words pass for
nothing that they really are can you feel it when i breathe out water? does night really
entail darkness for everything you see? prune a rose after
every cluster of five if it doesn’t have
five try three or four or even six but never a grouping
of two orchids require
feeding that scares me i know i’ll forget the time the day and find it brown from
hunger mother, do those pills still give you an electric ripple? (a shake you can no
longer dispel) Stephanie Martz is an artist and writer who received her MFA
from California Institute of the Arts in Valencia California. Her poetry and
writings have been published in the online journals [com]motion
magazine, poemeleon, Glasstire and in the print art magazine ArtLies. Her artwork has been exhibited throughout
the U.S. and will be featured in the upcoming issue of the literary art
journal Word For/Word. She currently lives, works, teaches, reads,
writes and makes art in Houston Texas. |
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