kelley jean white
You have left your hat, but I do not trust it.
Maybe the sky should be stormier, its color the color
of my hair. There is a door. There is a doorbell. You
don't ring it. I could not lock the door against you
but I have let you hold a key. Perhaps there could be shaking
at the foundations. Perhaps some plaster could fall.
The windows are stuck but I have not locked them.
I pulled the shades down but they are broken and torn. I have
cut the phone wires to your house now. I saw you push
them back through the wall. I have turned to sleep
but I hear you pounding. There is lightning. It was thunder.
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Midge
show me the one that leaps
that spirals
that plummets
that rises
remains
is lost
is gone
Midge
show me the one that leaps
that spirals
that plummets
that rises
remains
is lost
is gone
Midge
show me the one that leaps
that spirals
that plummets
that rises
remains
is lost
is gone
Midge
show me the one that leaps
that spirals
that plummets
that rises
remains
is lost
is gone
Midge
show me the one that leaps
that
Read more [...]
to peel an orange in one continuous spiral
one perfect careful stripe of orange with just a fingernail
and thumb, lay the sweet fragrance onto hands
and into the room, put the fruit
one segment at a time
into your mouth, then rewind the peel
into a perfect globe, each edge remet and fit
to its brother whole, hollow, yes, emptied, but perfect still
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Handmade
Golden light on a square
of overgrown grass and dandelions.
I pull the shade.
Yesterday
in the damp night
I shattered
china
on the porches
on the walkways
on the railings
on the doorways
on the thresholds
Since I could not speak
I wanted to bleed.
Now that you
have taken away
the key
I hate locks.
Breaking and entering
I have broken
my own hands.
(Handmade
Golden light on a square
of overgrown grass and dandelions.
I pull the shade.
Yesterday
in
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Brickhouse Blues
See these men out shooting craps
up against the brickhouse wall,
these men all shooting craps
up against that brickhouse wall,
hear them dice click on the pavement,
see them dollars fall.
Here come this little man
bouncing his basketball,
along come a little man,
bouncing a basketball,
hair all done up in plaits,
don't hear his Mama call.
See him fanning out his hand,
see eleven-twelve dollar bill,
he be fanning out his hand,
got eleven-twelve dollar bill,
lays
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[b]What do you eat when
you're not in love?[/b]
stones
river mud
salted straw
still I don't grow
lean
[b]Stacked[/b]
I have a deck
and every card
is the Queen
of Hearts. I deal
my own hand
on the bedspread
solitaire
every face up
card is her
and every back
your hair.
[b]Cybernetic Reification[/b]
control through feedback
-your mother-
turn into a thing
spittoon crankcase bag jug
overshoot and undershoot
bitchgoddess pantywaist
give it a name whore
[b]A "use of force" incident[/b]
S. told the guard she had been hit with a chair.
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[b]Farmall[/b]
I am pleased to have Arthur sit
on my lawn for the Old Home Day parade.
He and Millie were good friends to my parents.
I know he and Peter feel quite alone
now that she is gone.
I know it has been a difficult year for Peter,
what with the surgery on his hips and the brief
failed marriage, but they have the church people
to help and they know everyone.
Arthur is one of the last people to have cows in town.
I love to see the tin roof on his barn reflect
the sunset off the mountain.
Jenny did a good job too.
She got two pictures of Peter driving the tractor.
Read more [...]
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