Desert Eros by Karissa Morton


Hyenas circling the air, low cliffs arresting each panic. Lizard’s tail removes dark from morning. It once came, said to her, describe the difference between water & the lake that holds it. Is a coyote less, in other words, if we never speak of this again, this day, this dryness of land? Eyes, the vulture knows, are for people like her— people who know what to do with their boredom. For each mile of sand, she spreads herself on a rock. Here, she smirks, send me your slaves & mares & send the other half of any cloud you’d like. Something hisses in response. Something else dies.



Karissa Morton received her MFA from BGSU, where she currently teaches creative writing & composition. She’s the co-editor-in-chief of Poets on Sports, poetry editor of Revolution House Magazine, & a writer for American Microreviews & Interviews. Her work can be found in The Indiana Review, Guernica, The Paris-American, Sonora Review, Lambda Literary, and other journals.