Lisa JarnotPOEM
Thighs, not dreams, the curve of the
dancers, turn of the line, the curve
of him I know, lovely, the dancers,
lovely, the obelisk of the sun,
a furnace of light, lovely, like
the dancers with their horizontal
thighs, in the horizontal shadow
of the obelisk of sun, lovely the
sun itself, the absence of the heat
pipes, extended in space, the glass
of water and the grass and thighs,
lovely, uncertainty itself, the turn
of the line, the curve of him I know.
THEY LOVED
Just the eldergrass and him, the fog,
unpoliced and safe inside the train,
the thoughts of rain, apollo, and
the sun, of delphi that they loved,
of rabbis and of airports, that they
loved they loved this wide, canal
of green, you trees, oh love, oh
single cross of cloud cover, beneath
the leaves to see the cows, the boat
launch, and the night.
THEY LOVED PAPERCLIPS
They loved harmony they loved Anselm
they loved food and cookies and the
zoo they loved the sound of laces of
the shoes and snow they loved the
snow on Thursdays in the rain and
when they met they loved that too
and igloos and the trees and things
to mail and chlorine and they loved
the towels for the beach and hot dogs
and the pool and also when the wind
rose up they loved the ceiling and
the tide and then they loved the sky.