Very rough right now, subject to work and criticism. I don’t even know if I want to keep this title. Big Top The trapeze artist on losing his stance, walks the black plank out of orbit swooped into a nest, the kind you may associate with wicker, or felt, or ash stretching the pleats andContinue reading “New Poem, Born of P&W’s Weekly Prompt”
Category Archives: Sleepwalking
Postcard from the Met
That portrait of a dog buried in the sand.That portrait of a dog sinking in the sand.I remember it was sepia-toned.The difference between sunk and sinkingPerfect-ness of the action whichbegs the eye to follow through,yet it just stares frozen like the trapped animalWhen you showed me a postcard the year we met, the faded sketchyouContinue reading “Postcard from the Met”
After Persephone
The peeling of potatoesbrings a dreamabout my mother, in the kitchen,its dimensions not mistakenfor any other childhood rooms, cousins´ houses, rooms from other lives. Faded cupboards, greaseon the counters.Black and white featherbelly of the cat. My mother throws two red tacks onto the floor, one straightone bent. One, perhaps, for the cat which used toContinue reading “After Persephone”
mabel lee 