Julia Anna Morrison
Winter 2026 | Poetry
The Cutting Room
I lie for long stretches in darkness,
simulated rain falling into my ears.
The rain makes a blue noise I think of
everywhere. I think of the telephone
in your hotel room, the only number
you had memorized.
*
A machine hallucinates four heads
on the violets in the field
Volumetric lightwave casting
Earth in muted blue films.
I respond emotionally to the violets anyway.
Their departures sting.
I make love with my hand, a mistranslation
of another text.
*
In the cutting room, I find no forecast
of your death.
One night, you plant the camera to record
a long take of skating tricks.
On each attempt your skates grind against the metal
rail before the box ends
I pause the frame while you suspend mid-air
where all my memories are made
Julia Anna Morrison is a poet and filmmaker living in Iowa City. Long Exposure, her first book of poems, won the Moon City Poetry Prize in 2023. Her work is forthcoming in Brink, Bennington Review, LIT, and Poetry Northwest. You can find her at www.juliaannamorrison.com or @snorkelmaiden