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  • Writer's pictureLover's Eye Press

3 Poems by Nathan Lipps


By then hopefully

I’ll be stumbling over starlight

stray piercings of every moment

of silence erasing

what your breath felt like

from across the orchard.

Until then I push

this furniture around the room

the borrowed couch against window glass

the table where the bed once was

and the bed outside

push till it all feels right

the carpet torn

the coffee pot shattered

leaves and slugs

and other strangers

in the blankets with me

beneath these trees.


We Are Still Building Beach Houses

There is a streetlamp

on the ocean floor


for our small act

of consenting

to time

knowing the sudden loss

of any object

resonates for years

if a year means anything

beyond postponement

beyond asking for more

which is why water

lives inside water

and we call it a body.


Cost of Living

Am here with the day

and its gentle dying

the dog cleaning herself

on the couch loudly. Am thinking

of this maintenance

we've perfected.

Autumn, inevitably.

What apples remain

rotting towards something

misunderstood as waste.

There has always been enough.

Tomorrow rolls along

because of this excess

our time split by memory

spilling into a shallow ditch

because of what it takes.

Of course we exist.

We make this so

by giving ourselves

over to it.


Nathan Lipps is from and currently resides in the Midwest where he teaches. You can find his work at Best New Poets, North American Review, TYPO, and elsewhere. (

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