Poem for July 6
July 7, 2012 § Leave a comment
(Note: the following poem is being serialized over the next several days’ worth of blog posts, two parts of the poem per day. It will conclude with parts 9 and 10 in the July 7th entry.)
Epic Poem Concerning the Poet’s Coming of Age as Attis
7. The Twilight of Universals, or What Happens If Her Shadow Starts to Grow?
Her name is Sophie and she knows a lot
of fancy words for weather — cumulus,
cooling trend. Her nose bleeds when
the barometer falls. Squid-shaped stains,
red-brown, on the pillowcase. I’d like to stay
here for a year, maybe more, in her room.
Her father out bowling with his ass crack
and his friends, a bottle of Colt 45 rolling
around in the bed of his pick-up.
Her sister downstairs breastfeeding
her bastard kid in the recliner. Out back,
the field where she tickled the soft spot
under my chin with Queen Anne’s Lace.
My hand’s between her legs. How many stoplights
are turning red right now across Montana?
8. Hush, Can You Hear the Cries Beating Against the Window of the Wedding?
I saw you knocked up and living in a singlewide
on the other side of the river. Dust devils
and the sagging porch, dirty kids and cars
with their parts pulled out all over the yard.
Knocked up and smoking in the grey
glow of talk shows. Some stranger’s
singlewide on the other side of the river.
Why did you run away, sister?
-Kara Candito, from Taste of Cherry (University of Nebraska Press, 2009)