Anya L. Cobler, Five Poems



"Poem to be written on flap of Christ's underwear"


hounded bra
gave them legs
when was laced
a bell on the bare star
a wind touching off clothes


this is me. this is you


missile broke
it is like
a paralytic's nose
at the foot of the pool
before the black expanse


where has my devotion



"March Poem"


like
a sudden jival
striding leg tih tih


things are don't
feel happening!
a rocket is like a red red lunch
my cart          roses


spittle heaven
woman page
lift up thru bath
juicing out
the deviled wild


the heart in the hallway
very far away
pulley mine up thru
what the son sets ablaze


thank it
the great and brief
naked tit       a hat
a eye doe black


stretcher fetter
little letter
tah tah       jeer-ahh
their chest inning
aways


My.


crush the lights
like fuck you, woman


in this house
we can only



"There is nothing either way, just I and God alone"



My eyes have been reconnected to my
throat, my vision is a walking new earth.
I recognize each of her bodies, I
recognize each leaf in black of morning.
I see clearly what is good, it is all
unshackled day, the wind blows, I will say
exist, I exist, there is nothing either way.
Nothing so cold as I unfurl the new
eye, taken down my chimney gullet. If
I word-monger, began to turn my mouth,
the sleeping animal shudders within
ribs. I was sent to braid the dogged nail
onto winds, my imagination has been impregnated
by the most holy of gods we are found blemished.


"'I Cannot Find a Thing I Can Love as Much as the Thought of Heaven'"



Notes on worship true worshippers will trust and
Learn learn and trust and write it down in journals

Either in spirit and in truth first you say the church
Is a tug, then the church is a stay, don't say should


If I was hurting my wife, don't say you wouldn't say
Should, don't lie Jerusalem was should the place to


Worship, the people said Jesus said Non I'm urging
You brethren with the whores of my hands to call


Pat Robertson a brother no I'm saying it not the
Pastor today was Sabbath not the money in the


Coffers I took it as I dusted off the thickened loaves
Of my hibiscus and with a beer that was my Sabbath


And I sang to the dog from the end of the earth I
Call to you when my heart faints he understanding


My fickle if I act like I'm skirting its because I
See I am I take the globs of salt and blood like

Chocolate not my shattering not my steering that
Makes it brighter it will be much longer much


Hotter in this pearl why is it fair that you deny
These black rubbery jowls your son does tolerance


Week you ask from the church why I respond
Gracefully gracefully it is my trend to love on the


Body to feel the great love as I walk out my bones
That which makes you please allure me


Pat Robertson leads a double life and he goes
Bare breasted in fraternité to the babies in


The rural towns and he lends a breast a shoulder of
nourishment actually his mouth has become a nipple


Squirting out free milk, free milk to the fold on the
'side I do not lie I truly do not know who denies


Will it be I the sound you make as I put out the
Note is overwhelming it takes over the air and


Permeates the space around my head hear our
Praises rise you can't fly these jowls are worth no


Words but stay humanly when I realized that justice
Was not the point when I realized justice I urge a


Breath running towards a shotgun that's it that
Because we are the true we we we I do put some


Confidence in the flesh of the body because body
Can body do a mountain from a valley to where have


Died together where I am still layed out in bondage
And in fear and near godly near you're so big so black


So deep so infinite what do you shed for what do you need
Because what am I saying what does the matter does


It shatters even do my beliefs matter to the mountains
To the valleys from here to there I cringe a soul on a shelf


Because if I may quote Baldwin, a raking sprout over
The sun the people have begun a maddening under-


Standing of love I am a selfish I am impatient with
This cup I love the walking shells I love Pat Robertson


And I grope towards this man in a dark bed whose
Face I don't know though we have lived together and


This love but shy sky do I need the body do I feel the
Body do I need the I am licking lick lick before I close


My eyes I am turning thrice the body I reeled the body
Is a warm broad fur chest I burrow into the flesh my nose


My eyes my jowls flap chop



[Untitled]


who done                   the night hours
                        the silver rope             the golden mare

ink ourself             arms up
                              who done                   so the dark times watch


  his arm opening       give, no give

fingers tongue at
                           bottle breasts


scribble hair on young
                             forearms       belly    painted


a swoll bell
                        vagina       a black


that is burdened-
                        looking but long

                                                                                                            terror of our knowing
                                                                                                            god--
                              in me