Bryce Lillmars
Dear Human

like a fossil of a fossil

the Museum Museum
traces the intricate traces of the past

the impressions of memory's memory

in order to preserve that which preserves—
so that, you, in studying

a plaque of a plaque

behind two walls of glass, two
sets of velvet rope like doubled vision

can view yourself

paused before yourself
observing that which you observed

(leaning in, removing your glasses

and holding them to the glass, bending
a reflection of a reflection toward infinity

the exhibit out into space)

and learning, finally, how the future
lies not ahead, but behind you studying

how an extinct feather on display

held in place by a delicate pin
spearing a delicate pin

could never fly, again.



Bryce Lillmars’s poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Conduit, DMQ Review and Nimrod. He lives in Los Angeles.