He remembers that cypress mean windbreak. My father’s tears. I
remember: cypress mean windbreak. In the dream, mouse holds fast:
my wrist. Cat watches me wing my arm, fling frantic breaths—
mouse teethes, tailing air. In the prow-front house, mice from out
under the kitchen sink. With rolled newspaper, he waits, brings his
hand down. From mouse: two pink, naked-blind: babies. My father’s
tears. Day the front-yard snaked up / down; under the table, I kneel
on a bee; earth-tremor, he braces the hutch full with wedding crystal.
: : Baking soda leeches out the stinger. She misplaces her ring by
Bryce M. O’Tierney is a multidisciplinary artist from Anchorage, Alaska. Her work as musician and writer is scored through exchange: between nonverbal and verbal, human and greater-than-human, the improvised and composed. Bryce’s poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Poetry Ireland Review, Anchorage Daily News, and RHINO Poetry. Bryce is currently an MFA Candidate & Teaching Fellow at Colorado State U., and holds degrees with honors from Northwestern University and Trinity College, Dublin. She composes, records, and performs in touring duo maeve & quinn with her twin, Maris (commissions with Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago, Steppenwolf Theater, Poetry Foundation, Chicago Composers Orchestra, Anchorage Symphony).