Alexis Almeida

Process Music



Gripping the edge of the fabric


I smooth it with nothing but my knees no


Other weight pressing down against the fat


Dough of the floor little pinches


Of skin mold themselves so quickly


To the dull side of surfaces


An edge so fragile I am distracted


Forgetting why wrinkles matter but smoothing


Them anyway barely audible singing


Reinforces a sense of gravity between


Breaths the sun touches me


Through my shirt now passing


Over my face the warm feeling


Of something struggling


Still alive in its efforts


What is moving


I will ask myself again


As a child mimics the wide steps of his shadow


My mother calls to say I don’t need what


Most people need no time


To pick the socks off the floor I call this love


Hauling my legs across the street until


The motion steadies watching the leaves to see what they collect


In light


Something Tells You to Look (Elegy)

after D.D.



Maybe I can tell you about

This part of the house.

It used to be a beach.

This is where the tide came in.

This is where the sand hardened and

Turned a dark muddy-brown.

A seagull was burrowed in a dry patch of grass,

She was old and spotted

And maybe sick, and I carried

Her muteness inside me

When I walked the length of it one last time.

Now the people here wear giant sun hats

So they are always in costume,

Blocking the sun.

It is the sun I can’t write.

It is a bright thing

I hide from as it scatters

And passes through every wall.

You can base your whole life on something

That doesn’t know you exist.

It will not understand why you squint your eyes,

Why you whittle yourself down

To the shape of stalks,

Wait for the wind to tell you

The things leaving you are here.


ALEXIS ALMEIDA’s work has appeared or is forthcoming in Prelude, Oversound, Jellyfish, H_NGM_N, Action Yes, and elsewhere. She is an assistant editor at AsymptoteHer chapbook of poems, Half-Shine, is forthcoming from Dancing Girl Pressand her translation of Florencia Castellano’s Propiedades vigiladas is forthcoming from Ugly Duckling Presse. She is the recent recipient of a Fulbright grant, and is currently living in Buenos Aires.