Columbarium | Sarah Bartlett

SARAH BARTLETT lives in Seattle, WA. Her poetry collection, Sometimes We Walk With Our Nails Is Out, was released in 2016 by Subito Press. She is the author of two chapbooks, My Only Living Relative, published by Phantom Books in 2015, and Freud Blah Blah Blah, published by Rye House Press in 2014. She is also co-author of two collaborative chapbooks. Recent work has appeared in Eratio, PEN American Poetry Series, Poetry Daily, Lit, Boog City, Alice Blue, and elsewhere.    Lake Full Of StrangersHorrible tusk of youth wearing downTusk of my mother's insides wearing downI remember myself to youMacaroni guts evolving I whisper into the hole and it feels like beggingOn the road the landscape announces itself in stagesSweat a timetable The light is dyingWhat does that really meanif not a metaphorIn a bed somewhereyou lace yourself with dreamslike any common catastrophe that survives by breathingYou keep arrivingA beach in winterholding and rejectingstone after stonefor their music