by Alan Bern
The Fence Disappears Into the Pacific
Christo’s Running Fence, Sept 1976
Many times I was overcome
with water.
I wished that I could disappear
and be eaten by crabs
my juices spooned by mussel shells
lined with lavender.
I felt the bright sun bouncing off the rocks
in my stomach, my white dress.
I was pinned down
by dramatic winds
which people came to watch
& thought Beautiful.
I was only temporary
but also forever.
I was a curtain, a fence,
an outline, a way in.
Also a way out.
Francesca Preston is a writer and visual artist based in Petaluma, California. She lives part-time in the ghost town of her Ligurian ancestors, and can’t think of herself without old rusty objects. Her poetic work has appeared in Phoebe, Crab Creek Review, Stonecoast Review, Ekphrastic Review, One Sentence Poems, and the RHINO art2art challenge. Her first chapbook, If There Are Horns, is forthcoming in 2022. francescapreston.com.
Retired children’s librarian Alan Bern’s poetry books: No no the saddest and Waterwalking in Berkeley, Fithian Press; greater distance and other poems, Lines & Faces, his broadside press with artist and printer Robert Woods, linesandfaces.com. Among Alan’s awards: his poem “Boxae” was first runner-up for The Raw Art Review’s first Mirabai Prize for Poetry, 2020, and he won a medal in 2019 from SouthWest Writers for a WWII story set in Italia. Recent photos: unearthedesf.com/alan-bern-2/, pleaseseeme.com/issue-7/art/alan-bern-art-psm7/, mercurius.one/home/alanbern. Alan performs with dancer/choreographer Lucinda Weaver as PACES: dance & poetry fit to the space and with musicians from Composing Together, composingtogether.org.