Saturday, May 12, 2012

New Poetry: The Destruction Loops (Part 3)

3

in my nightstand, talismans
for each disaster:

     sweet grass from a cherokee lover

     my fifth grade teacher's
     handwriting, days before her death

     blackened bundle of sage, saint
     michael, stolen wiccan's compact.

turning in my hand like liars'
dice
     turning thrum
     of placebo.  i am

     a beggar when it comes
     to life. i take

     whatever rope of vapors
     comes my way.

3 comments:

The Skirted Wordsmith said...

I love this! I have always been fascinated by the power certain objects can have if we just decide that they are meaningful. Very nice!

SteveD said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
SteveD said...

Powerful stuff, these Loops. I'm assuming they're yours. Though I haven't read my friend Susan Yount's newly released chapbook yet (just got it yesterday), what I remember of her "Catastrophe Theory" poems remind me of your work. Plus, there aren't many better titles than "Destruction Loops" and "Catastrophe Theory."

May 30, 2012 12:32 PM
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