By Katherine Soniat
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Extra info for A shared life: poems
Or maybe this heat never was mine, and memory got it backwards in its own territorial way, insisting it was me, of course, I was there when indeed it was sundown for some painter needing warmth so much, he crossed from the window and stroked it in, turning it out as great clouds of colored smoke I took as mine. This smoke could come to nothing more than the tail end of need, imagination drifting off into a future that slips from the top of the sky down. Page 5 Fortune Suppose the waiting began with rain on a sleeping porch while the tea leaves darkened on a damask cloth.
His yellow teeth open, flash with it, and the seasons pass away. Finally, it was all like being hungry, and afterwards, the winter sleep. Page 19 TWO Page 21 Janus in Autumn The hornets enter this dark nest filled with one great hum. It's hard to think of each with will enough to hang the earth from an Appalachian power line and something has plugged one golden ear of corn above the entrance hole, thrust it into the practical mud daubed up, then down, the curve of every invitation and departure.
Unaccounted for: brother and sister dreaming on the urine-soaked mattress sleeping in the midst of broken sticks of furniture eight inches of clothes layering the floor the wood padded with dirt Page 34 Graffiti With hearts and skulls and scarlet scrawls, thousands swear at this boulder of a world as if words could sting each passerby into one sharp breath of recognition, blame taken by the men in dark suits, the fault resting with women who ever wore red. Page 35 Learning in Time I read of hospital hallways crowded like wards, of peasants, not soldiers, marooned in a corridor's white light.