Tag Archives: Brett Warren

Brett Warren

If I’m Lucky

the worst thing about dying will be
how I won’t be able to write about it

what I thought & felt
what I saw & smelt

the oh fuck! or what the hell…? of it
or the last contented breath of it

the regret or peace or relief of it
the whack or languid pull of it

the radiance or dimming or fire of it
the antiseptic or floral rot of it

the simple unraveling
or sensory overload of it—

how I won’t reveal if a colossal face
peers down through a hole in the clouds

if a massive hand scoops me up
like a cosmic Ferris wheel

& sets me back down as Cleopatra
or a dung beetle or crushes me

in a divine comment on insignificance.


Brett Warren shares her late mother’s utter disinterest in the idea of an afterlife and might prefer reincarnation, though perhaps not as a human.


 

 

Brett Warren

Mooncake in a Chinese Bakery

You came for this round wonder
on a paper plate

& found windows steamed
to invisibility

tables & chairs so close
you have to go sideways

to get the one seat left
at a rickety table by the wall

the bell on the door
an insistent message

from the world of the sidewalk
where gutters gutter over

& rain rains down
which you blissfully ignore

because you want to drown
in the refuge of voices

not one word you understand

not one face you know

not a soul who knows you

this happiness a measure
for all happiness

a lotus mooncake
the least of it.


Brett Warren shares her late mother’s utter disinterest in the idea of an afterlife and might prefer reincarnation, though perhaps not as a human.