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White Whale Crossing: March 2014

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Poems by Rena J. Mosteirin. I woke up on fire. Tuesday, March 25, 2014. I woke up on fire. I bought a bumblebee from a witch,. She said. But I’ve kept him to look at. And he turned into springtime. Bees hunker, bees wiggle soft-stinger bottoms from side to side. To dance, to engrave the tiniest love-notes on flower petals. I bought a bumblebee from a witch:. He looked so little, wet wings pressed down to the velvet. I thought there were no bees left in the world. And he turned into springtime. To tell ti...

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White Whale Crossing: April 2014

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Poems by Rena J. Mosteirin. We Earthquake With It. Tuesday, April 22, 2014. Where we together have gone. The clouds open and close around us,. The clouds are not afraid to be in the air. If the farms below zippered open at the seams. I would read that as my invitation to the heart of the world,. Where we together have gone. We are flying on metal parts in a frame:. We frame and puzzle the sky. The clouds are not afraid to be in the air. Point your nose at that:. Where we together have gone. Of the only s...

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White Whale Crossing: July 2014

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Poems by Rena J. Mosteirin. Tuesday, July 22, 2014. See how dead are clumped here. But just past the far fence they are laid out in rows? None of these accommodations are spacious. But they keep the dead still. In Queens my people live among graveyards. Hold your breath while we pass. Some of these still have lanes for hearses to drive through,. And some have covered over the lanes with additional graves. The cheese melts into the afternoon. You can’t tell a swim from a suicide jump.

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White Whale Crossing: The Night Spreads Stars

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Poems by Rena J. Mosteirin. The Night Spreads Stars. Saturday, April 25, 2015. The Night Spreads Stars. Beskin’s calf got out last night,. So young he swings a baby pink umbilical cord. And sometimes he crumples to the ground, legs wobbly. Yet trying to escape. The stink of freedom. Is a warm blanket of smoke that protects us from the stars. Earth rests low in the belly of the universe. If Beskin’s calf can make it to the road, he will leap. From one side to the other, because the middle is mud.

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White Whale Crossing: November 2013

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Poems by Rena J. Mosteirin. Reality TV and the Multiverse. Two Coffee Shop Histories. Tuesday, November 19, 2013. Reality TV and the Multiverse. There exists a universe parallel. And another us and another us. In the multiverse simultaneous. You are in heaven and. You are in hell. The psychic medium won’t say farewell,. She sees spirits everywhere she goes, thus. She sees in the market and makes a fuss,. Must tell: “Your dead mother is here, is well.”. That place is real, I visit in my sleep,. Yeah sure,...

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White Whale Crossing: December 2014

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Poems by Rena J. Mosteirin. Wednesday, December 3, 2014. Perfume Whales want you to sleep forever. And while you sleep, they make perfume from your dreams. The hedgehog and the selkie are in love in my pocket. I dance. Across the bridge made of words, built. In an effort to talk around that grief, that street paved with steps. Rena is funny. She says funny things. She makes people laugh. She will always be laughing. Inside the ocean is silence. When the days freeze, the branches tap on the kitchen window.

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White Whale Crossing: Bathroom Wall

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Poems by Rena J. Mosteirin. The Night Spreads Stars. Monday, April 13, 2015. Drinking saltwater and woodsmoke in April in Vermont. Where you live life according to your favorite tee-shirt motto,. Didn’t realize how drunk I was until I started walking up the stars. Adding vertebrae is the only way to keep my head above the water. Sometimes I can grow those inches, but other times I must buy them. The bluegreen yearning from my tailbone tastes like saltwater,. What they write on the bathroom walls too much.

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White Whale Crossing: November 2014

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Poems by Rena J. Mosteirin. Friday, November 7, 2014. Means thank you and rain season. Means that which sustains you,. Food/water, wet love/heat, heat/shelter. Also, this word means winter. Means the place you sleep when your house burns down,. This is the word for springtime as well. Is the place you go when the love is dry. And the food is too wet to eat, also, summertime. There is no word for autumn, no autumn, in fact,. But ten new words that each mean the flight has been delayed. Thank you for coming.

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White Whale Crossing: October 2013

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Poems by Rena J. Mosteirin. Thursday, October 24, 2013. When we’re done inventing geological processes. We'll all just be layers anyway, same-same but different,. Igneous layer cake/ metamorphic lasagna/. Roadkill squirrels turned to touchstones,. But Henry, you are made of martinis and ice cream. Remember Tom Hanks in that movie. You took me to the movies. The night my father was taken to jail. And all around me in the theater. I guess that was the point: crying with a group of people. How can I help.

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White Whale Crossing: September 2014

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Poems by Rena J. Mosteirin. Smoke From My Hair. On the Occasion of Going To A Strip Club. Tuesday, September 16, 2014. Smoke From My Hair. A song like the ghost of a mill girl, a song heaving and sick. And pregnant, a song like my grandfather worked. Many lifetimes simultaneously so I would never have to hear. A song that took away everything. That night. They came down from the hills to Havana,. And some sexy black woman was singing this song. Into the boozy faces of tourists. Shake it up baby. The song...