Poems & Collages by Dara Cerv

By  | September 11, 2015 | 0 Comments | Filed under: Poetry



Poems & Collages by Dara Cerv







I encountered a person

a part of me

who wants to dissect to the point

of disappearance it fingered

the organs of the chest I pictured

hovering in front of me

OK we said the therapist and I

my pain is typical

it’s the transformation that reads individual


blue was how I felt


in the natural food store next to two women

holding small roll-on bottles

rolling essential oil over each others’

third eyes I pluralized

I compounded a sixth sense

was how I felt so paralyzed

a cascade of blue a cloud of bluish

through which I spotted organic broccoli

slowly rot toward real time


beyond wilder dreams blue

the unfitful sleep of a newborn

a shudder in the brain

a flutter along the inner thigh

varieties of fruit along the aisle

shocked me out of the blue

I stood in why this

witch-hazel this

lavender scented candle

trying to build peace

again and again with objects

I am a foolish child








I want to figure some things out

but not others I want to figure out

how hands can recall an ass

in such a way

so that the imagined cupping causes

a rageful erection

I like those people

those walking experiments

I like a bath that makes me

want to slip into a hot ocean

I like the idea of an iceberg in my ocean

like an ice cube in a glass

I like the idea of myself in a glass

that someone holds up to the light in

a congratulatory gesture or

to hop into a reflection

to fling a rainbow onto a wall

or because they are just that sullen

the iceberg slides into

the sea it’s a private act

I like responsibility

but not if it causes too much pressure

not like rupture

you see

I like to return

and return again to a thing

that opens me

as thinly as the space between

two pieces of paper

or as thinly as an oyster’s shell


along the edges

so that everything at once can swell

in and out

small private events

that make life interesting

have I revealed too much

I like swimming the soft

current of need











Dara Cerv lives and writes in New York. Her poetry and reviews have recently appeared in Sink Review, The Volta, Fou, Jellyfish, and in other places. She is the author of a chapbook, BATH POEMS (Sixth Finch, 2015).







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