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Three Poems by Lindsey Webb
Where Are All the Women Futurists
among the catalogues, where you suck your pen i make off with my vision of the past so long tucked beneath my surcoat & strapless bra the sheriff’s badge of my crowned heart now a sigil of the flesh and though i am ready for an argument with you between the pamphlets and the lion-faced boys you have already absconded with the ribbons, rings, and contracts and all other seals which make speech possibleDistrust of the Stranger
causes beauty spiritual freshness satisfaction in marriage precious children even the most distant hindrance remains special language, pears cease their complexity look more like the woman will stand with her back turned till he has gone by carefully eat out of the same dish because of the barrier that exists against impulse her irritability and malevolence leads her between fantasy through factsDear Lisa
where is your other I miss her antique chair her late American bookplates the hart left this country when even pottery was young forget patience justice photography is this another Lisa? tell her they build data from her perfidy and gendered American objects like ourselves build smoke-proof silos and shadow our eyelids can you hear the gun buybacks the wax cantata? tell her I play the spurned lover the French horn describe my playing say late hart in a silk lining say lost treasure * "Where Are All The Women Futurists" is covering Max Ernst’s Une semaine de bonté, "Distrust of the Stranger" is covering (erasing!) Freud’s Totem and Taboo, and Dear Lisa is covering Lisa Robertson's Debbie: An Epic
Lindsey Webb’s poetry and other writings have appeared in Sixth Finch, Asymptote, Tammy, and others. She has received fellowships from the Vermont Studio Center. She is from Utah and lives in Iowa City.