Lisa Jarnot

POEM

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.

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