poetry by Anna Antongiorgi

POEMS MIGHT NOT PAY THE BILLS, BUT I HOPE THIS FINDS YOU WELL ANYWAY.

In the meantime, we can make an art
work and call it
a house. It needs windows into something
bloody—a heart or even just an artery or vein will do. There must be a way for light
to get inside you. From the sun. You must hinge
your ribs out like a door that won’t stay closed,
just let it sway and squeak. An open chest cavity
is an act of bravery. An open chest cavity is an invitation. An open
chest cavity is for
the lovers. I might have wasted my life away already. I might have overthought and undercooked
meat. I have too many dreams.
My favorite places
might be sinking into the ocean. I could be depressed
but I have a great therapist. My chest cavity closes,
on occasion. I get stuck deep inside myself. My brain feels
far from my eyes. Does that make sense? For our
house? We’ll need a place far from the eyes. Everyone,
at some point, needs a room
in the back with a stool
to sit and cry
and hold their head in their hands.

Anna Antongiorgi (she/her) is a poet, choreographer, and dancer. She earned her degree in English at Harvard and her MFA in Poetry from The New School. Her poetry chapbook "refinding the rules of gravity"(Finishing Line Press, July 2021), was featured in Dance Magazine and included in Flight Path Dance Project’s curriculum. Her original choreopoem "SUNDAY" was selected to be performed in the Emerging Artists Theater’s New Works Series. In 2024, she expanded this work to an evening-length show produced by Spoke the Hub. Her most recent choreographic work, “itsokitsokitsokitsokitsok” was commissioned by NorteMaar for their annual performance of CounterPointe in March of 2025. She lives in Brooklyn, where she works as a freelance choreographer and is a company member with Brooklyn Ballet.