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  • Writer's pictureLammergeier Staff

starry order— | Josh Lipson

a heavy snowfall disappears into the sea

at Goshen Gore.

missed the ritual, the

terrible glistening yawn,

the vomiting cat,

the musical vowels of Babylon

north cut narrow with kabuki,

and gnostic games beyond my ken,

my yellow flag

in the Haussmann air


the prow of my skull

against the rocks

and Baker Beach wax-cast in


Should I make it pristine for you?

jealous of the glass

that passes its lips

and slick with Albéniz

the heave of a

bodyless oar—

benim tanrım.

airdrop me anywhere

safe from electrical storm:

Lalibela. Shasta.

I’ve left a sacred mess.

“Don’t Know Why”

and a pile of woodchips.

Josh Lipson is a student of history, language, and the mind based in Virginia by way of New Jersey, Cambridge, Jerusalem, Istanbul, and San Francisco. His work has been featured in Obra/Artifact, Homonym Journal, Burning House Press, and Petrichor. His poem "Habana-Om" was recently nominated for Sundress Press' "Best of the Net Anthology."

Twitter: @Josh_Lipson

Facebook: lipson.josh



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