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Tag Archives: original
Moving Over Christmas Break
We moved into the place next door It’s a mirror reflection of the old place The windows, the closets, the mail drop, The heat vents They’re all backwards now The sun shines through the windows At different times of the … Continue reading
The Arch Nemesis in Three Parts
Part one: 11 years old There is a girl. She is not real. She does not grow. She is always mourning her mother face down, sobbing into her bedspread while I sit on the edge of the bed and watch … Continue reading
Dress
It had been wrinkled and awkward for more than eight years in the bottom of a chest. Once in a while she would peek down underneath the others just to see if she remembered the exact shade of blue. Last … Continue reading
After the Surgery
My yellow teacup children in an afternoon window, Their names were a favorite pastime. My Olives and Stars were put away but not as carefully or as quietly as I would have liked. Try revitalizing an impossible past and it … Continue reading
Ekphrasis: The sister arts of painting and poetry
On “Flaming June” by Frederic Leighton Sleeping in a corner at noon on a bench Too small to stretch her full 5’11” Her full figure I warm my hands quietly up close To the reaching oranges climbing The resting light … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Adam Zagajewski, art, Charles Wright, ekphrasis, Flaming June, original, painting, poem, Poetry
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A Blue Kite, or Yellow
Once, and a big fat why will pass before I am no longer my allergic me. I am the blue body, dyed the hue of our crummy old couch cry- ing to be replaced. I already tried on the theory … Continue reading
Sips
the best view of the sunset is here in the parking lot the sky a mystical light of change if I were to walk to the store just for a sunset and some Fruitjets I’d not forget the ginger ale … Continue reading
Rapunzel's room
If I got to live in a high, high tower in a black forest and away from backyard fantasy I would have round pink walls and round red pillows silk everywhere and would cut my hair shorter and shorter of … Continue reading
On Breaking Men and Glassware
There were six in all: Little globe drinking glasses I bought at the thrift store Crystal and matching Each brushed with blue Close to the base Faded as if washed too many times I broke them all in the past … Continue reading
My first sonnet
at Portage Glacier Alaska was always an eternal word to me. empty, cold as an opal ocean’s surface. and dad held the world in his fingertips there. he could point and dim horizons lit up with hot-air balloons and floating … Continue reading
