“Consolatrix” & “Lake Lake” by Cori Hutchinson

Consolatrix

Nothing’s forming but driving dreams again
Somewhere in a Silver Lake sushi restaurant bathroom
There’s a spider who knows Pretty Woman by heart
There are two types of people and they are both sort of doomed
With just one hand you can stop the rocking horse cold
Curve the bow all the way into another bow
Pull from the earth what you can muscle
Like, seize the leaf
A freckle taken on the shape of another freckle
I have worked for free
Somewhere a woman is waking up and that is awesome
The answer is seance, floating eye punch, and making out
What’s there
You may fish a line from my mouth
When I am asleep
But if it is too small to chew, let it go
Leave me at the dream-wheel

Lake Lake

For fear of walking away from the rave (it’s raining)
And not feeling stricken by a feeling bolt under Dream Auto Sales
A car in a cloud watching over the lot,
The world, my glitter-suit, and a door
Levitating ahead of me
That I refuse to open for obvious reasons.
It’s best to see the light for what it is: a sign to stop dancing,
Walk the plank home to victory,
Fit the heart-shaped breast-plate over one’s chest,
Eat a croissant, and go to work.
Smooth over that tile from the dancefloor,
Haunt a new one,
Bathe in it, awake with clawfeet,
Put the scarier dolls in the attic
And leave the other ones out to look at,
To look at you.
And then there’s the bigger light which is between
The first door and the second
Of the one you’ve chosen to let in,
Looking like confetti,
Expecting frozen yogurt, in a dream,
Just past the mist, hugging the bone.
Keep having fun if it means having nothing to say
At the risk of being eaten.
Give the skull what it wants
Or be mistaken for the one who does.
Claim space by the fire-pit for later.
Humming a wreath up early but not too soon.

Tags: cori hutchinson, sarah waddle