March 3, 2024
Audio
from SICK FUTURE
By Leah Nieboer
View full text below.
from SICK FUTURE
by Leah Nieboer
sun hot
let her sleep
Let it be morning, Sabrina
girl the site of
vacated devotion
the hand right there
fumbling then finding its
harmonic across
the room
a pair of automated doors slides open on
– —
kicking the occasion
I am tired and I want
a year of far-off parties
a cigarette held to
stiff little forbearances
a mother is bound to
– —
vowel cycles and houses
bizarre symptoms of yesterday
– —
a slim aperture
a heavy purple weather
a 1929 theatrical debut
netted in
vulgarities
the dancers have fainted
the nurse revs up
the mouth wrestling vacant
– —
faces
hollowing ever out
dripping places
thin vertical walls
I have always leaned into
key changes
the ridge road
tidewater
I’m an amateur diver
Leah Nieboer (she/her) is a poet, Deep Listener, educator, and PhD candidate in English & literary arts at the University of Denver. Her first book, SOFT APOCALYPSE, the winner of the 2021 Georgia Poetry Prize (UGA Press 2023), was named a best debut collection of 2023 by Poets & Writers Magazine. Her current projects—a novel and a second collection of poetry—ask how we might imagine, listen for, and desire sick, disabled futures. Learn more on her website or via social media (@mznieboer).
Image Description: Leah leans against a chain link fence on a bright day with her hands in her pockets, looking steadily into the camera. She is White with green eyes and long, light blonde hair, and she is wearing a white t-shirt and black bomber jacket.