3 poems by Yvette Johnson

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The Tiny Letter

early to confidence
clinging
reaching
neither Beauty
hope is too shy
your eyes mine
novelty trapped in glass

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Politely Hold Me Then

politely hold me then,
our bodies out all day
vague when you say “After you.”

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Rationale can save lives though matters of chaos &
divinity depend on instability for theory

You heard it was further left
quiet
final
you start a hundred books
you can’t remember which believes you
wait : archaeology will belittle the place when we
leave
someone to make it regrettably as relevant as their
aims

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