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Derek Annis


I live in a city encircled by fire.

The ants are buzzing.

I’ve acquired a rifle from the honeymaker’s son,

who’s late to the wedding

again. Every time mother washes her hair

down the drain, a plate of figs appears

on my ottoman. They’re sweet as children

in a river of mud

with their mouths open wide like baby birds

on an autopsy table. Little fluorescent ribs

smoke like a notion of home. I was there once,

in the retina of a mouse, helpless

as a horse on springs, dead man’s face

on the pillow next to mine.

Nothing will ever taste as good as that.

I’ve run out of ice. My spoons

are losing blood.

Derek Ananis.jpeg


Derek Annis is a neurodivergent poet from the Inland Northwest. He is the author of Neighborhood of Gray Houses (Lost Horse Press) and the associate director of Lynx House Press. Their poems have appeared in The Account, Colorado Review, Epiphany, The Gettysburg Review, The Missouri Review Online, Poet Lore, Spillway, and Third Coast, among others.

Bear Review


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