- By Erica Anzalone
- Published 11/15/2001
- MaverickMagazine 5
Aperture: I wander through white birch, a splash of blood on the wrist
of your sweater. Which is also white and blue. Bruised. Or is it you
that wanders, lover? I wrote, a month after my stay at the hospital:
"He wanders through white birch." I thought of you patiently making
that daily pilgrimage to my bedside, my crazy side like a laughing
white horse that will not let you pass.
Violin: We slipped into each other's skin like quicksand. The casualties were few and often.
Intestine: The body is dark. Firelight sighs and cries to enter. My
mother floats like a ghost by the apple trees. A dog barks in its sleep.
Civilization: About Kosovo the newspaper says, "Drive for
self-determination passionate and often violent." The paper clipping
turns brittle and yellow in her lavender journal. After the abortion,
Work: Surf the web for porn sites.
Blood: Relentless as love, the boy stutters Relentless aslove The tide
moves in and
Out the waves are greenrelentless
as memory the knock on the door
you don't want to answer (and it's all recorded) the march
of History one black boot infrontof
another boy stutters
Copyright © Erica Anzalone, 2001. All Rights Reserved.