Arsenic Lobster
poetry journal |
Issue Twenty Summer 2009 |
|
3 Poems That Haunt Me When I Wake Up Michael Opperman 1. Smoke rises like desire (everything is like desire) from the chimneys to the south. The sky straddling the chimneys is beginning to burn (like desire) red, pinkish, yellow, orange. Chimneys say, we are truth. The crisp lines of buildings say, we are truth. The smear of makeup across the skyline says, I am truth. You ask, what is it? Nothing. Nothing. 2. From the wrist a gentle push to the left the give the give of fruit sliding out seeds held within the stomach of the pear expunged. only Can I write about the coriander? dusty heads pushing out of the soil. on the window sill. 3. I haven't heard anything for years. |
|
About Michael Opperman |