Issue #20 (2011) PDF - myweb - Long Island University

PROSE POEMS FROM BLINKING, BENDING BONE
TABLE (SCRAPS)
corn cobs crowded (dead) on counter-top (found) gn-awed to
(rotting) pulp for throwing (once mom and dad are gone);
toothache agitated by a (pointed) finger stirs (up) rage (at
crime) scenes; i am (a lot) of things; i am (not) a liar; i (need
to) floss (still); fairy says (she wants) your pretty (yellowed)
teeth (for money) so precious; (this) god made (earth for) man
to (mine) love; welcome to my (farm) house (watch for shit)
DAY
To bicycle across town. To see patterns in the grass. And the laughing. And the hammock. How my
chest is full and empty. How you tease. And the sun. And the strawberries. How we water the
garden. How food is served. To hide and sleep. To dig holes. And the drive. To get home. How I
can hear your heart beat. How my heart beats. And the bird calls.
EXODUS
Get some parsley even though it makes our daughters sick. Parsley is good on eggs fried in garlic
and butter. Your pores will open. Try to hydrate every two hours. Gargle hot salt-water for a sore
throat. This road floods, so keep candles under the sink in case of blackouts, and just say you have
chains on your tires—they won't check.
MONSTERS
Child is afraid of shadows in the corner of his bedroom. Fed up, Mom and Dad say just be brave.
They find him the next day sitting up in bed facing the corner, eyes and mouth wide open.
TALL TALE
Walk into the woods, think, I'll never leave again. Shred clothes. Tear leaves from trees. Chew on them.
Sky is lavender (which makes me welt-up and itch)—think, I'm allergic to this time of day. Stomach
growls. Follow rabbits on tiptoe. Freezing when detected. Think, I need better shoes for this. Later, have
meat for dinner. Smiling at myself.
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