Today's poem is by Esther Lee
from Crossed, Cross, Crossing
Wasn't there something about a sandbag
doing no good a burlap sack cinched at no waist
by water,didn't we believe
the woman pulling her children would arriveI swore the wood pigeons mingling here
last year would againYes we did say this much
Which one of us sat here Which preferred
the train's soft metallingThe will of a maggot is so easily
mistaken for rice How I behave as if I know you,
offer you a little bark then a little moreYou talk of bodies tailless and at fault It matters
to no one
Systematic slow,
you are hungry always hungrySkies change
according to the blood in my cheeks Searchlights pulse
their usual pulseI'll meet you in the dark, I say, where history says
it won't matter Will you trade anything, you askWe discover new sentences They order themselves
Their pink feet turn away from you & not
the other way aroundI mean which one of us sat beneath the razored water
slinking beneath ice,what I'm asking is where
each tooth in the pile belongs and how come you can't
return to me stunned and leaving
Copyright © 2005 Esther Lee All rights reserved
from New Orleans Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
Support Verse Daily
Sponsor Verse
Daily!
Home
Archives
Web Monthly Features
About Verse Daily
FAQs
Submit to Verse Daily
Publications Noted & Received
Copyright © 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005 Verse Daily
All Rights Reserved