monday poem #212: Lisa Olstein, "Ibex Have Evolved for Life at the Top"
I've posted Lisa Olstein's work before; I was particularly happy to see this poem this week because today (November 16) is the release date for Cold Satellite, Olstein's collaboration with Jeffrey Foucault, whose work, longtime readers will recall, I have loved for many years. I am looking forward to giving the new album a good hard listen sometime soon.
Ibex Have Evolved for Life at the Top
When we say specimen
we mean you. By you
we mean whatever
collection of night sweats
and shopping lists accumulates
in the bed by dawn. When
we say dark we mean pitch,
moonless, starless,
don't even open your eyes.
When we say he has your eyes
we mean we see nothing
of you there. If you want
someone to come for you,
you'll have to cry harder than that.
If you want to be prepared,
practice: blizzard, fire, famine.
Your shoes or your coat?
Your cat or your dog?
Sister, daughter, mother, wife?
- Lisa Olstein
from The Nation 291:20, November 15, 2010
Originally posted at Dreamwidth || Read
comments on Dreamwidth
Ibex Have Evolved for Life at the Top
When we say specimen
we mean you. By you
we mean whatever
collection of night sweats
and shopping lists accumulates
in the bed by dawn. When
we say dark we mean pitch,
moonless, starless,
don't even open your eyes.
When we say he has your eyes
we mean we see nothing
of you there. If you want
someone to come for you,
you'll have to cry harder than that.
If you want to be prepared,
practice: blizzard, fire, famine.
Your shoes or your coat?
Your cat or your dog?
Sister, daughter, mother, wife?
- Lisa Olstein
from The Nation 291:20, November 15, 2010
Originally posted at Dreamwidth || Read
comments on Dreamwidth