We hear the sound of a river’s branch breaking. We follow it
like a hallway down. We arrive at an ocean but decide not to
stand in it. You laugh, slightly crazily. You sit/sort of fall down.
We look again. There is no ocean. Just spit in a frame. A tox screen
shows its blood content, which unzips into a room. Wonderland.
The room has no latitude. If an image comes to you then
you’re hallucinating. Light, comma, sticks. Touch me
again. Something tells me you’re good and a body
must have documentation. I look into your eyes and what I see
is beautiful water. You want to try and save everyone. This is
ordinary magic. We’re still waiting. Waiting for someone
to come. We can’t just crucify the light.
Poem's Score: 0.190029411765
Danika Stegeman lives in Minneapolis, MN and works in a library. She has an M.F.A. in creative writing from George Mason University. Her work has appeared in Denver Quarterly, Lo-Ball, and Alice Blue Review, among other places.
JULY GENIUSFor July 2013, Everyday Genius is pleased to present poems that were rated below 0.4 on the "Poetry Assessor"—a tool that "is designed to determine whether a poem has the characteristics of a professional poem, or, alternatively, an amateur poem.
We publish the poems here, with their scores, not to confirm the Assessor's judgment, but to allow human readers to decide for themselves.