After John Berryman and Marianne Moore
Ceaselessly sullen, switch grass sacks fall:
Strike! We run for a strong love’s body-beaten cover.
I lusk, you tramp, and the hummingbird draws
Sweetness from a limp trumpet flower. Ferocious,
You with that handle-rake, you comb my hair
Tangled by suppressed gestures, stamped
By a forearm with no damp cover.
“Who are you?” you stammer,
Callous and crotchety like a blimp that won’t rise.
The woodpecker is our wood-warden,
And she culls us blistering to a pine’s tenacious shade.
Pools of chips lay at our feet: vanilla burn.
Our smells melt in a comparable air.
Ant nests sink under our clinks
And these worn fingers prod acorns to snug holes.
For over twelve years, Gabrielle Myers worked as a cook and chef for San Francisco Bay Area restaurants and catering companies. She currently teaches Composition classes at St. Mary’s College of California, Yuba College, and Diablo Valley College. Her recent publications include poems in the San Francisco Public Press, Nebo, Damselfly Press, The Solitary Plover, Caesura, The Evergreen Review, and 14 Hills. Last year she published a critical essay on Virginia Woolf and the trench poets of World War I in the journal English, a division of Oxford University Press.
MadHat Facebook GroupLoading...
MadHat CloudAaron Shurin Daniel Y. Harris Distraction Dogs are not Cats Ellipsis Events Fiction Flash Fiction Gloria Mindock Here's the Deal Howie Good Interview Ira Joel Haber Irene Koronas Issue 14 Issue 15 Jessica B. Weisenfels Kristine Snodgrass Kush Laura Moriarty Lucy Lang Day MadHat Annual MadHat Lit MadHat Press Mary Bonina Maureen Seaton Memoir Neil de la Flor Norma Cole Philip Fried Poem Poems Poetry Poetry chapbook Poetry Collection Rob Walsh Screaming for Paul Some Perilous Thing Susan Gervitz Terese Svoboda The Next Big Thing Tim VanDyke Visual Art Visual Poetry Wendy Taylor Carlisle