|Arsenic Lobster poetry journal||
|The Woman Who Poses Naked With Her Parakeet
Wendy Taylor Carlisle
poses after she sweeps the kitchen, drinks coffee
and talks to her mamma on the phone. That picture was never her
only assignment. She hardly feels her husband’s forefinger
sliding on the shutter, the claws in her soft, pale flesh,
ignores the green head bobbing in her peripheral vision.
Feathers aren’t her whole life. A cake is baking,
perfumes her kitchen. In the bedroom she glances over
her naked back, takes the parakeet
on her knuckle, onto the top of her head where the bird
does a budgie dance, then minces across her.
The man with the camera considers: depth of field, light as texture,
his background, the turquoise bird as an excuse to undress.
About Wendy Taylor Carlisle