the Theta Xi chapter
       

Confer to comfort: can each girl be first
Splayed by the loyal man who opened me.
Underneath whom the sea. An April full
Like hot. Hydrangeas delighting in the window.
Then winds. Then every fight of blooming jets
Through the halls & though the night was long
I can't say. Much like a puppet, yawned-past
But plastered and I was outwardly okay. A picture
With crayon wetting and tape over the owl face
Was meaning. The thing the fist of which
Could crackle anything. I fought off the beer.
I thought of a fear, and story to plant in: able, angry,
Full. I too can slick green with a kindness.
To empty the poison in. Thrashing tails and that which
Paved his sorries. I was that girl always pretty and privy.
Betrayed by my ancestry and crying O
To be under wood. Crash a day. An Apriling kid
Who'd lock down and cater. Under the world
Of him and aware of it. Did a salty powder become
The bluster. The drowned feeling. From whence
Throating. He unarched my face. And mouth nose eyes.
Each part interior, my inferior, was becoming.

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Copyright © 2011 Anne Marie Rooney All rights reserved
from Jubilat
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission