Paige Melin is a poet, editor, and feminist from Buffalo, NY. She is the author of the book of poetry Puddles of an Open (BlazeVOX, 2016) and the micro chapbookMTL/BFL//ÉTÉ/QUINZE (Buffalo Ochre Papers, 2016). She co-founded and edits steel bellow: a purely buffalo literary magazine, served as an editorial advisor for My Next Heart: New Buffalo Poetry (Blazevox, 2017), and has worked at the SUNY Buffalo Poetry & Rare Books Collection and the National Poetry Foundation. Follow her @paige_melin.
1 poem by Paige Melin
mushroom
Is it crazy if I just sit here & stare at the screen
until I see you’ve
started typing?
I’ll write this instead.
All my dreams lately
are about buildings
& your ghost is in all of them –
or your future,
I can’t tell which.
There are high ceilings &
possibilities
of spaces,
like it matters.
I wake up into this world
which feels less so
like life &
more so
like dreaming –
is it crazy if I say I think I’m
coming down with that neurosis where
you can’t distinguish dreams
from reality?
You
are my dream
for so long
& now –
I’m waiting
for the circles
& the drift of this
conversation.
We’re not
at emoji level yet but
I imagine your eyes
when you’re reading my words
& that
seems close enough for now.