by Andrea Baumgartel


Bed-shape all day, window by the freeway’s
carnival whispering . . .

Barn-hearted worry
on the world’s rim,
empty prairie.

Sunset opens spillways

in a quiet room
in the Casey’s queue
in a dance sense
            slow-following                   farmlands                      flinging wild

                                                       slipped-
                                                     clouds
                                                                        through

an updraft,
all-corners; thoughts
processed
like wind in a blender.


                                                       The last is best:
                                                                                so rides a balloon







along your arms





                                                                                                                                    mur-

mur in someone else’s dream . . .


Originally from Peoria, IL, ANDREA BAUMGARTEL earned her B.A. in English and Biology from Grinnell College before teaching English on a Fulbright fellowship in Łomża, Poland. She currently lives, writes, and works various gigs in Seattle, WA.


Photo: “The Old Workshop” by TumblingRun