#anna meister

[bostonpoetryslam]

I feel simultaneously like a plant in need of light & light that can't wait to get out

Anna Meister, from What Nothing

[lifeinpoetry]

I have given myself permission to be // a monster in little ways.

Anna Meister, from As If

[lunchboxpoems]

[I USED TO THINK SILENCE WAS BEAUTIFUL, BUT NOW I GET WHY]

I used to think silence was beautiful, but now I get why we all need to be shouting loud as that summer the couch had fleas.

When the gallery wall told me to cry I was already crying. The world is full of active losses and my body knows it.

I make Moroccan chicken red as what spills from me and I miss you so hard. My body bruises like an arrow

and you already know. It's frightening to call someone you know will pick up. Smoke blown after lots of talking or not talking

which can be different than silence. Talking makes everything more real which is a problem here. Tell me the difference between

a change and an end. As if you are a canyon and I'm flying over. We need mezcal and a lamp turning us oceanic. Remind me again

what might be good to row toward. What does deserve mean? How can I ever? When I swallow a pill, it settles me and that's how

I keep on. I whisper be well but how and for how long? Still my knuckles go white at the word open.

ANNA MEISTER

[whisperthatruns]

[...] There’s magic in a car full of generous limbs and the radio at a whisper. To be the only one awake is its own enchantment. [...]

Anna Meister, from “As If”

[queenmobs]

Poem: Anna Meister

To Aaron on His Birthday (Poem for Amanda)

something tells me there is a code to speak in as I spill coffee on the memory all of us around a table screaming about grief in a quiet way passing something to inhale this year was quicksand in slow-mo we watched the tussle through the screen you wading in whiskey from too many miles away there was little to be done but mail postcards of birds practice our recitations incantations you will feel better in time the roundness of bullshit it’s possible to miss what you didn’t even have and you really had something in time it’s time to take a cab through the park eat an animal with a name be deliberate in how you look for signs some- times the bread gets burnt and we eat it anyway she would’ve made a card for this day she makes the sky now forces a particular color story like pay attention to me of course we do

[bostonpoetryslam]

Is it always this way, the two of us passing happiness back & forth like a small dog or cigarette? We have joint custody of sorrow, take turns as taught to do.

Anna Meister, “Akin,” from What Nothing

[bostonpoetryslam]

When I answer too quickly, say good instead of well, it's hard to squash the worry I've ruined everything. How am I doing? I just keep making soup. I mean I just keep making mistakes. & the days get shorter. No matter our hard work, what if it still feels like there's no way to hold my head to your chest?

Anna Meister, “The Worry I’ve Ruined,” from What Nothing

[bostonpoetryslam]

Here is a moment I am mindful, practice victory over future dread. Later I am convinced if I leave the house I’ll die. Paranoia or premonition? I tell you I’m sorry over & over until you say Shut up all gentle-like & the only thing my mind can hold is that you will take care of me.

Anna Meister, “Postpartum,” published in The Rumpus