Poetry
Discarded when their LEDs started to fail and the numbers surfaced only in pieces, a line of floating sticks or hieroglyphs in blocky shorthandlines, right angles, inverted horseshoes
In the parking lot after Romeo and Juliet have killed themselves for love, after the Capulets and Montagues have renounced enmity, we sit stunned in our cars by a greatness of love and loss
Kitchen necromancer, mom unburiesthe washer each week from its shallow graveof crochet magazines, Wonder Bread bagsof phone bills, coupons clipped and saved towardssome unexpired future where Point Beer
Cold floor colder than my sweat, his voice a Tennessee hush at my ear, hand soft on my back as if to say he will not hurt me if he doesn't have to so I know I got to do
No makeup or mirrors, nothing that reflects,no TV screens, no tinted glass, no tin.No clinging clothes or cameras,no photos or frames,no possibility of any shape, trapped.No trappings of any kind,
At seventy, the final thing she wantedto learn was to dive:
to tuck her chin to her chest, betweenher outstretched arms and to fall
headfirst toward the bottom she had bothfeared and yearned for since she had
White clapboard worn to silver sitsstraddling the crest of a dark wave of soil, sailing a froth of sand atop the dark, implacable earth.Below us in the trough, hidden now by the spray
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Wisconsin Academy Offices
1922 University Avenue
Madison, Wisconsin 53726
Phone: 608.733.6633
James Watrous Gallery
3rd Floor, Overture Center for the Arts
201 State Street
Madison, WI 53703
Phone: 608.733.6633 x25