March 3, 2024

Audio

from SICK FUTURE

By Leah Nieboer

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from SICK FUTURE

by Leah Nieboer



sun hot

let her sleep


Let it be morning, Sabrina

girl the site of 

vacated devotion

the hand right there 

fumbling then finding its 

harmonic across


the room

a pair of automated doors slides open on



– —



kicking the occasion

I am tired and I want

a year of far-off parties

a cigarette held to 

stiff little forbearances

a mother is bound to


– —


vowel cycles and houses

bizarre symptoms of yesterday

– —

a slim aperture

a heavy purple weather

a 1929 theatrical debut

netted in 

vulgarities

the dancers have fainted

the nurse revs up

the mouth wrestling vacant



– —


faces  

hollowing ever out

dripping places 

thin vertical walls 

I have always leaned into 

key changes

the ridge road

tidewater

I’m an amateur diver


Images of Leah Nieboer’s poem, “from SICK FUTURE.”


Leah Nieboer

Leah Nieboer (she/her) is a poet, Deep Listener, educator, and PhD candidate in English & literary arts at the University of Denver. Her first book, SOFT APOCALYPSE, the winner of the 2021 Georgia Poetry Prize (UGA Press 2023), was named a best debut collection of 2023 by Poets & Writers Magazine. Her current projects—a novel and a second collection of poetry—ask how we might imagine, listen for, and desire sick, disabled futures. Learn more on her website or via social media (@mznieboer).


Image Description: Leah leans against a chain link fence on a bright day with her hands in her pockets, looking steadily into the camera. She is White with green eyes and long, light blonde hair, and she is wearing a white t-shirt and black bomber jacket. 


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