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The Missouri Review

Poetry | June 01, 2009

Poetry Feature: Lisa Williams

Lisa Williams

Featuring the poems:

 

Melt

If I could enter what I long for,

true coursing, blown North,

 

some passage I believe is fluid

without the stops of intellect,

 

I’d be a glacier disassembling

into liquid, icy grains

 

awash and running, freed

from rigid doubt into one bead

 

of travel, cold without pain,

removed from but akin

 

to others in a witless flux

of continuing, scrambled syntax

 

whose translation is diluted,

whose value is all go

 

uncontrived, arrow of happenstance,

inebriated flow,

 

and where I would be riding

would not be justified, there would be

 

no reason for it, I can tell you-

extemporary motion,

 

the going and the being gone

to sea.

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