Andrea Janelle Dickens

Desert Geography

Empty space is having space:
it shows me how to be 
tremulous, to depart in 
a hurry. After, I am unfolded 
from my constrained
position. And you, a person
who flits aimlessly from 
one group, one interest 
to another. You, you display 
yourself at the one place 
where few forms of life 
can exist, the one without water, 
a barren wasteland containing 
growth, all exceptional.



This poem is an oulipo poem based on the original sentence: “The air is alive with fluttering wings in the 
Spring Butterfly Exhibit at the Desert Botanical Garden.” Martinez, Sergio. “Spring Butterfly Exhibit at 
Desert Botanical Garden a Whimsical Experience.” State Press. 3 April, 2014. Web.



Sonnet With Trackmarks

an inner crease on an arm,
a new vein. i use. i use as
an answer. arizona swears a new
awareness. a minimum science.
an exam in a curve. a woman
now co-owns a corner i use
in a room. i assure a moose
on a screen: i can use a new vein,
one i can see. some men receive iv
convenience as cures. a main
reason new was never a consumer
issue. never new or immune.
i’ve seen concern come across
seven sessions. assure me.



An oulipo poem based on the newspaper story: Hilliard, Janessa. “Inside The Drip Room: Scottsdale’s 
First Foray into the Multi-Layered World of IV Vitamins.” Phoenix New Times. 15 April, 2014. Web.



Andrea Janelle Dickens is a native of the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia and currently lives in the Sonoran Desert in Arizona, where she is a beekeeper and a ceramic artist. She teaches in the Writing Programs at Arizona State and volunteers at the Desert Botanical Garden. Some of her recent work has appeared in Rivet, of zoos, streetcake, New South, Found Poetry Review, and Thin Air.