A Wait to Be Found

Emily Sieu Liebowitz

Let slide ladders ring on steep staircases.
A curled formula: there, always. I sit
bayless for the first time, a river to
lake they all imply ocean.

I curate bodied land, tying gray steps
when they stood self-reflexive—a glitter
listing to control the tide. Glued together
beat envelopes a contorted wishless list.

Stomped current, I expand waves’ breaking—fractures
furthering long waste inside landings. Drawn
lines barring direction to ebb, expanding
together the slanted straining of horizon.

Flat mist-stained texture bridges every
trapped hue under troubles: iron hours
spring foam. Pleased in-flowering circles
a cursed rapid, turns growth into foreign bricks.

Crashed on sharp rungs, frontiers slid buoys to
distance. Slips are a box of implied silver.
Promises a hint of height: an edge. It said,
“gather on that edge”

Emily Sieu Liebowitz is originally from the San Francisco Bay Area and received an MFA from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. She currently lives in New York City and works at the Academy of American Poets. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Lana Turner, LVNG, and various other journals. Her chapbook is forthcoming from The Song Cave.