Originally from Pennsylvania, Alicia Hoffman lives, writes, and teaches in Rochester, New York. Author of two books, Railroad Phoenix and Like Stardust in the Peat Moss, her poems have appeared in a variety of journals, including The Penn Review, Radar Poetry, Up the Staircase Quarterly, Rust + Moth, Lockjaw Magazine, SOFTBLOW, and elsewhere. She holds an MFA in Poetry from the Rainier Writing Workshop at Pacific Lutheran University.
Poets Resist
Edited by Michael Carter
August 24, 2019
Alicia Hoffman
The Work of Bodies
At the border, the body makes a sign
of the cross. The body wades through,
then swims against the rising current.
The body works against its own safety.
A raft of sleep in the cell, a body
floats on the boat heading towards
the light until ultimately lightening
to release its final breath of air.
Clouds part. Land heaves. Valley
of grasses. Field of clover and
timothy. Switchbacks and one lane
bridges and jungle heat and winds.
Hungering for the food of its origins,
a body lies supine in a stretch oblique
as the spine of the Cascades spreading
up the coast and capped in glacial snow.
A body celebrates the work of bodies
at the dancehall. It turns and twists and
bends. Embraces and extends itself
towards another it desires. It needs.
Sees itself in the mirror, sees sanction
and land mine, river guide and coyote.
Sees children, then sees no children.
The body stands tall. Plants its feet
like the vinca vines that never quit
climbing. They are impossible to stall.
A body is a caravan. When the body
ceases to move you, you’re through.
Poets Resist is published by Glass Poetry Press.
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