The Poetry Project

Rachelle Rahmé

Dissent of Winter


The sound is carefully
considered a
score that works
with the dramatic
action, sound that
comes close.

Drama propelled by
basic needs, toilet

paranoia, agoraphobia
panic whistle.
How this man lives
alone is a fantastic
vomits up all he devours
in the shallowness
in the shof the mind.

Maybe she’s just
an impulsive girl.
Miss me honey?
Ham on rye,
Marney’s Cafe
like burning hamburger
and romance
but as for that, it’s
out on a long,
green pasture,
all forgotten,
so I’ve heard.
You, me, Mexico,
in that sequence,
the come on,
the pack in the morning.



meet halfway
makes us both
makes uYou drive
me nuts, I want
to bury my head.

Look at the rock,
I want to live where
I waxnt tI am like it.
Not in the basin, river
Notx in trolled,
not in the park, weather
not in thand foot worn,
the rock face is
the rocksharp and shining,
light falls crashing and
kills you caressingly.
A poured cement,
a slurry,
a wet,
worker mixed,
delinquent to-be
drew in cement tonight
this credo:

Because poor myself,
until I again pour myself.



Comfort in proximity,
sake and Chambord.
Judgment, life
is finer than what liberty?
What together?
The ideological break
is in seeing
it’s the same same,
when you have it and have not,
either way you know
what you need.

Judgment begs judgment.
On the second take might
On the sas well drift with your
On the seyes to the door.

Sudden chance to meet you
On the shalfway,
where the night lets in
coal forest.



agon is not soothing.
Very grave,
sand, gravel, all of
sand, grthe above.
Want to talk about the brown
sand, grClairol, nice n’ easy
sand, grClairol, nice nxx(in Bordeaux)
down the river________________
Great strip tease at 33 mins,

perhaps a pigeon’s egg on
Nothing but reptiles, you
perxhapsknow me,
Marguerite and Faust,
I don’t know if you
I doxn’t khave sweet forgiveness.
Now let us smile and be
I donx’t kas we were.



The substrate is bigger
The subthen the limiting factor.

Art as political,
politics as practice,
art as demos,
demos demeanor,
limelight rocks off.



Think I liked the idea of us living
too much.
It seemed like you, perfect, wags like you
oblivious, law streaky.

Issue 20