Poetry: "Ice Cream in Tarantula Country" & "Angular Unconformity; elision" by Rick Hollon




Ice Cream in Tarantula Country




when I lived in a car, my father

hid us away across broken tarmac

in tarantula country and I

watched

migrations in the headlights

south of Tucumcari he stopped,

only to collect

to

confine

palmfuls of legs / spinnerets /

book lungs / futile fangs

behind the plastic of a Safeway

ice cream tub, two holes punched

in its lid and I

watched

struggle decay into

resignation

stillness

still

he

released

them

one

at a time

back into the dry grass

along the edge

of the road

and we locked ourselves away

the car wove between spiderlights

my book lungs

missed the

kindness

of air holes

in my confines






Angular unconformity; elision




geologically, a gap

a space of missing time

a burial lost to erosion

is called an uncomformity


making sense of

missing has many names


a disconformity of parallel


lines

a nonconformity

of layers

uneven

a tilted, angular

u o o i

n n r t

c f m y


paraconformity of

yet seems like nothing is gone

in poetry, a gap

a space of missing time

a burial lost to


breathing,

making

sense of

a

has many


names:








Rick Hollon (they/them or fey/fem) is a nonbinary, intersex, bi/queer writer, editor, and parent from the American Midwest. Feir work has appeared or is forthcoming in perhappened, Prismatica, Whale Road Review, (mac)ro(mic), and other publications. Find them on Twitter at SailorTheia.