Arsenic Lobster poetry journal Issue Thirty-three
Winter 2013
 
Blank White Page
Cindy Hochman

White—the color of devils and doves. Under white knuckles, white page turns to rage. Lackluster pigment and general malaise (ghostly demographics). Better to be mottled, dappled, calico, or tartan. No one remembers the white chickens; just that bloody red wheelbarrow. No lilies here. Try walking on eggshells with muddy feet and a hail-white heart.

The French say “blanc.” Jab of white needle at point blank. Blank white page in whitewash.
More than a snowflake, less than a glacier.

My white paper: Angora cat, pearl onions, pallid bride in lingerie and shy white sheets, glass of white wine…

Trembling in my white boots, with my pale face. One day they will crack open my platinum
head and donate the curdled white matter (each and every blanched cell of it) to science.

                            … spilt milk, oatmeal (mind already turned to mush), albino children, false teeth,
                                     little white lies, white flag of surrender.


There was nothing pure about the sick white womb that birthed me.

About Cindy Hochman

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