Poem of the Day
Twins
By Dorothea Lasky
Man in an Easter suit
Leans into me
To kiss me
But I am not in the mood for that
I turn and cough
I am desirable
Man in an Easter suit
Leans into me
To kiss me
But I am not in the mood for that
I turn and cough
I am desirable
windows, fit together
at the joints except for
your face which is a mirror.
We are ten minutes late. They
are very sweet, hiding their
rage under pink sugar, a boiled
on a certain December day in 1981
the front page of The Sydney Tribune said that
Mrs. Smith had found a snake in her garden
Elmer Fudd
by the fire
bald head shining
Each swallow scalds his throat, the lesions
on his larynx burn. There's nothing
to eat or drink but air. Skin
Boswell ran over to see if they lied;
Johnson declared it impossible, never
could that unbeliever whose work he decried
I have this large tattoo on my chest. It’s like a dream I have while I’m awake. I see it in the mirror as I shave and brush my teeth or when I change my shirt or make love. What can I do? I can’t remember where I got the tattoo. When in the past did I live such a life?
It’s true
I wanted silence
longed for it but
I do not understand this child
Though we have lived together now
In the same house for years. I know
This to be peace, they think beside the river
Being adapted well to expectation
And their wives’ mutiny at no achievement,