Jami Macarty (Test Site Series Winner)

Harbinger


December first’s morning fog thins and lifts noontime Anna’s hummingbird—
contour trace iridescence
taken as given
lived as given

defending the relevance of radiance

Of

such cloudless
utter absolute.
: :

Sun tinting its going everywhere as it goes.
A yellowish green in the Aleppo pine
edging the construction site.
Ruddy brown the pine’s bark, then
the loamy taste of spruce.
A blue-gray shade.


: :


Sun permeates into transparency
movers, dozers and dump trucks.

Tremors asphalt with a shimmer—

Westward on I-10’s conveyor semi-trailers and sedans
babble the freeway into sun’s paradise of sparkle.
: :

Of sun’s glittered advance—

: :


Of sun’s light-expended lingering, who is there
to utter praise for the warming the shining
constantly of risen generosity—

Nevertheless persisting—


breathing light into Wolf Moon’s
vanquished rabbit.


Seeker

Horizon’s love-sick fool

you pilgrim the Earth

chance the Ocean

Sky’s blue hands

emphatically open


Who is responsible for the death of a woman

Winter, for example—

an admixture
of a woman’s caused-by-reality

bracing of black ice, snow-gritted street.

Wind’s granular abacus counting
her anonymity and disappearance.

Snow more than expected—

waist-high as memory’s dark narrative
blue opaqued white beneath hemlock trees

but it does not take winter to vague a reason.


 

Whole Catastrophe

it’s obvious you feel herb-stained raspberry-
scratched so I ask      

 you wheel few words             
reset in silence
we walk until initial pretending wears off of
candid spontaneous    

 we circle a path to our unfolded chairs
a gorp of dried cranberries almonds
dark chocolate accompanying champagne you kept
perfectly chilled on your back

                 sun extends its light 149.6 million kilometers
visible eight minutes later
                                                  we’re happy in our chairs by
a fire by a river then reading

   as mood brightens so goes ours
faced we’re better like veggies roasted on a fire

 good I say the forest mood-useful
you say the forest
                 the forest living on its inner thriving
after a controlled burning grows

 some wrecked things unharmful
                                                  make sense as
our discreet rock-rimmed fire denounces
chilly hungry

  better we when faced as sunlight in a camp chair
as reading as a ladder-backed woodpecker knocks
as tree-wind tenderness as earthly ravine promises
the river river

   downstream the sun sends us there
our certain water transport

light-hammered rock-battered but we’re listening
the uncharred air             tenderness
                         the trees colander light
                                               colander our affection       

trees absent syringe concern
addiction prevention

absent city where meth stakes motherhood
her discernment a flop mom bonded to syringe but
really under drug scum she’s a star
                                 reflected in jade water

today my mother a chair in the sun
reading by visible light near the river
the forest an ally champions
an understory of late god-pitched flowers

  wakes as spooned agave syrup
bee-loud blue fortune 

wakes an us-ideal as the cloud-lifted whole-view
mountain peak the sun lights aplenty beyond our
thoughts even as we maybe
                      as industry maybes the forest the river

412.5 parts per million
atmospheric carbon in the air
we’re not even         a bee pane away from
out of doors  

good to lose the car     gain our legs
           we have a premiere camp emanating as real
as certain as bird and water musics chant to fix
though nothing’s broken                               

                  shore up we two on a spit on our chairs
in the sun to the chits and churls of birds

 and this fly      it’s here like us     of space of air
vibrates its slang        

                                    sit here with me listen      you know
I princess to horror and still believe in the sun-rain
exchange           a mystery bend of stem          
                                                     wind’s good age

  how I hate how I hate when you deny we
store irreducible flame      get up      stand forth
devotee of reality
chant the unbreaking bend of stem

mystery alive my diction           there’s your chair
renewed by me

hear it deliver basking
yes shame trails or if you squint it cinches
your hands behind your back       
                                             but just as easily

sun breeze river waterfall trees
puma’s padding over our affluent naptime

sometimes you choose stuck in a maze
                      sometimes I stop at the child’s grave

 but we unraveled the manacles   we may assume
  power to refuse to march behind any ruling ghoul

        this is why love loves a storm
tree canopy canopying

  our future futures thousands more moons
we’re young and old                    our sheets clean

kiss my mouth of its fizzy extolling
come here     life for you with me if you want

  our now rivered forested         many colorists
the forest animals       their angel haunches

 what never shall I be able to outrun   impossible
psychical cul-de-sac                aided by green discourse  

virtuoso palmate pinnate        moss lichen
tourniquet mistakes
                Summer Tanager shamans my ear
a tourniquet a river makes      two parts the sun

makes of us lip-synching agents weaving       
a statement of belief                         for clarity
voiced arguments
save unexpectedly

  words yours and mine
making ours flow the river        
tremble fear as fish in shady shallows or cliff-
frothed water below

             listen before fear drowns let’s intern to love
instead of power game

 let’s power water buckets       clap for a makeshift
shower of sun-warmed water     for love we endorse

for love as dusk charmbracelets the fireflies
your image no different  

listen we have to jiggle the handle at times
listen you intern to me as I intern to you

            you’re my mixologist I’m your vibraphonist
               we’re a snacks-and-chat smorgasbord

why listen to the self-war
why adore Gargoyles of the Year        
              why reckon our mutual dark oceans for bait 
instead wed a salmon of determination

 back-country long-walking hatches
                                                        lupin-lined paths       

Black-crowned Sparrows
little monks that chip

our minds animalized determination
after solicitors hell-blaze property        
waste river water                          
squeak legal dark mentions
but they can’t out-reverence us     idealists that’s our
department                 I say be gone greed infection
together we can ward
                            we can saturate as full moonlight       

 let’s never be ancient     but continually magnified
                       you by me by you          

let’s forget abandonment and night-rinse our bodies
until we’re clear of this and this and that and that

 then through the branches the billion stars
let this moment reign
           the Seven Sisters our minds
genuflect their light

if I’m a moment you’re a good rhyme
if you missed there’s next time

everyone does their best       sometimes crosses first
the finish line              other times violence
gets the prize or cruelty
                                       licks its chops 

  you’ll hear the cure     
Great Horned Owl’s old dusk song       

let’s talk and sweep out the tent
life damages and some call us
by skin     body part     gender pejoratives
as pain and love       

as fern fronds and chunky stew the best heirlooms
from the garden, they don’t resent consummation
in any gap we remedy by speaking
it’s so much better to speak by listening    

 the way sure by ears wins
        a horizon where capture and torture once were

Jami Macarty studied with Charles Simic at the University of New Hampshire, where she completed a BA in English, and with Jane Miller at the University of Arizona, where she completed an MFA in poetry. After graduate school, Jami was executive director of Tucson Poetry Festival (1996-2005), then moved halftime to Vancouver, British Columbia, where she teaches contemporary poetry and poetics at Simon Fraser University. Jami also works as an independent editor and a writer of essays, reviews, and poetry. Jami is the author of The Long Now Conditions Permit, winner of the 2023 Test Site Poetry Prize (forthcoming University of Nevada Press), The Minuses (Center for Literary Publishing, 2020), winner of the 2020 New Mexico/Arizona Book Award - Poetry Arizona, and four chapbooks, including The Whole Catastrophe (Vallum Chapbook Series, 2024) and Mind of Spring (Vallum Chapbook Series, 2017), winner of the 2017 Vallum Chapbook Award. Jami is the recipient of grants from Arizona Commission on the Arts and BC Arts Council, and scholarships from Banff Centre for Arts & Creativity, Community of Writers, and Napa Valley Writer’s Conference, among others. Jami's poems appear in the anthologies Cascadia Zen, A Journal of the Plague Years, Resistance, and Rumors Secrets & Lies and in literary magazines such as of The Capilano Review, Interim, Vallum, and Volt. For more information about Jami’s writing, teaching, and editing practices, visit www.jamimacarty.com.