Potential Titles: Amie Whittemore

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Lend it to you like a payday loan - Amie Whittemore "The Alien Epistles, Letters 1-3"

When no longer isolated from the universe's wealth - Amie Whittemore "The Alien Epistles, Letters 1-3"

A wren trapped on my screened porch - Amie Whittemore "The Alien Epistles, Letters 1-3"

Your eyes that seem to cast starlight - Amie Whittemore "The Alien Epistles, Letters 1-3"

As it slips from a curl of birch skin - Amie Whittemore "The Alien Epistles, Letters 1-3"

Settles over you like dry snow - Amie Whittemore "The Alien Epistles, Letters 1-3"

You drew your visions on my forearm - Amie Whittemore "The Alien Epistles, Letters 1-3"

Each day without a thought of you - Amie Whittemore "The Alien Epistles, Letters 1-3"

A forest where I do not recognize the trees - Amie Whittemore "The Alien Epistles, Letters 1-3"

My rooster's voice clattering all day - Amie Whittemore "The Alien Epistles, Letters 1-3"

Electrons blur and clarify their positions - Amie Whittemore "The Alien Epistles, Letters 1-3"

The gray of a glass of water in a dimly lit room - Amie Whittemore "The Alien Epistles, Letters 1-3"

Infested me with a ruinous desire - Amie Whittemore "The Alien Epistles, Letters 1-3"

Subject to vast power structures - Amie Whittemore "The Alien Epistles, Letters 1-3"

Refused to translate yourselves - Amie Whittemore "The Alien Epistles, Letters 1-3"

A single hair balanced on a fingertip - Amie Whittemore "The Alien Epistles, Letters 1-3"

A common language of alarm - Amie Whittemore "Future History of Earth's Birds"

When the zebra finches felt the first pinch of climate change - Amie Whittemore "Future History of Earth's Birds"

Dawn's chorus is a peace-making operation - Amie Whittemore "Future History of Earth's Birds"

The birds with the biggest eyes sing first - Amie Whittemore "Future History of Earth's Birds"

A call for mobbing, a call for fleeing - Amie Whittemore "Future History of Earth's Birds"

The survivor must learn a new tune - Amie Whittemore "Future History of Earth's Birds"

Some kites drop fire onto the earth - Amie Whittemore "Future History of Earth's Birds"

Neither ice nor snow lived long enough - Amie Whittemore "Future History of Earth's Birds"

Redbuds dispersing their ruby secrets - Amie Whittemore "Ghosting Aubade"

Kept the body taut with thirst - Amie Whittemore "Ghosting Aubade"

Some come to us in the perfection of their frailty - Amie Whittemore "Ghosting Aubade"

To watch the earth paint the moon gray - Amie Whittemore "Lunar Eclipse"

Look up the etymology of melancholia - Amie Whittemore "Lunar Eclipse"

I've come to a different power tonight - Amie Whittemore "Lunar Eclipse"

The self stripped of alimonies, stripped of pearls - Amie Whittemore "Lunar Eclipse"

No incantation, no rosemary and statice - Amie Whittemore "Spell for the End of Grief"

No keening women in grim dresses - Amie Whittemore "Spell for the End of Grief"

No cauldrons, no candles, no hickory wands - Amie Whittemore "Spell for the End of Grief"

You be the marrow, I'll be the bone - Amie Whittemore "Spell for the End of Grief"


Poet's page at poets.org.

Poet's bio at Strange Horizons.


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