Kari Hawkey

Los Angeles

this moment alone
within the infinite street sleeping
you are exposed in tattered clothes
and while actors run their lines
like fishers of men
you become a cathedral
a tabernacle
the one-handed misdirection
another tent under the bridge

you are a museum in a jar
city with hands
rooster behind chain-link
apartment in a shopping cart

you crept out yesterday
lined in newsprint
smudged the same as Ash Wednesday
then a fire in your uncombed hair

the static hum
damp vegetables in a crate
downed power line
a plastic bag gutter jellyfish

inside your head an ambulance
in harmony with the hymn
of coins in your paper cup

the surf rose this morning beside you
and within this glass universe
pacific waves stagger
your saltwater drunk secret

you are a crowbar
reflecting the midnight sun
the endless construction dust
the cosmopolitan nighttime machine
your hair dark with Aztec blood
and cop radio frequencies

Author Portrait

Kari Hawkey is a multifaceted writer. She grew up in Orange County, but has wanderlust and enjoys traveling the world. Her work has appeared online and in print. Kari holds an MFA in Creative Writing from the UCR low-residency program, and is currently enrolled in a doctoral program. She was finalist for the 2013 Pocataligo Poetry Prize. Kari is currently an Intern Editor for Smartish Pace and is the former Poetry Editor at The Coachella Review. In her free time, you will often find her at a local theatre, art exhibit, or just reading a book at the pub down the street.