Tuesday, February 5, 2008

three days worth from natasha

which face?

again, the voices
open the cage
or pour the honey?
after a long silence
either action will
which voice speaks
for me? which face
will suit?



little explosions
mark his passage
feet aggressively
pounding the ground
rattling furniture and
dust-covered baubles
primitive structure
of language and form
carefully chosen words
and a smile, to tell
us stories of tiny
moons in juice or
big noodles
he turns us
into mirrors, he
makes us plants.



there are no words now
traffic noise and wind are all
sunday after noon.


anna kiss said...

You're doing great, Natasha! Thanks for joining me. The "tiny moons in juice" line made me smile. I like that one especially.

ksaint said...


I love the imagery, especially in your second poem.