Final Poetry Portfolio
3 poems
To Begin
We were freshwater shellfish, small
at the bottoms of riffles and rapids,
spinning river strands clockwise.
We sailed off,
our courageous utterance
etching rivulets into red earth,
and braving the urge
to crumple up like unskilled origami.
Develop a pattern of survival
and step, keep your fingernails
closely trimmed and keep
your fingers out of your mouths.
Untitled
IKEA cabinet, abandoned
on the 405, sees the sun dive
expertly through concrete.
There is no splash of
molten freeway, no
fiery delayed sound.
It feels the road balance
rubber wheels, and listens
to the desert bitch
constantly about his dandruff.
But when day falls,
he knows quiet like
quiet knows antique mountains.
It remembers yesterday,
journey to earth, tumbling
from the back of a pick-up truck.
The scratches on its side
are already filled with dust.
Poem Beginning with a Line from Thomas Lux
humming, huge white freezer
vibrates on garage concrete.
Its tinted insides cage ketchup
and mustard chilled fireworks.
Mid-thirties, she holds her breasts
back while breaching
the magnetic carapace.
Twin orbs blinking,
adjusting to the contrast.
Its night indoors
as my mother stares, wayward
hair brushed aside.
She twists her arm in,
wanting to find more than
those hardened, sticky explosions.
To Begin
We were freshwater shellfish, small
at the bottoms of riffles and rapids,
spinning river strands clockwise.
We sailed off,
our courageous utterance
etching rivulets into red earth,
and braving the urge
to crumple up like unskilled origami.
Develop a pattern of survival
and step, keep your fingernails
closely trimmed and keep
your fingers out of your mouths.
Untitled
IKEA cabinet, abandoned
on the 405, sees the sun dive
expertly through concrete.
There is no splash of
molten freeway, no
fiery delayed sound.
It feels the road balance
rubber wheels, and listens
to the desert bitch
constantly about his dandruff.
But when day falls,
he knows quiet like
quiet knows antique mountains.
It remembers yesterday,
journey to earth, tumbling
from the back of a pick-up truck.
The scratches on its side
are already filled with dust.
Poem Beginning with a Line from Thomas Lux
humming, huge white freezer
vibrates on garage concrete.
Its tinted insides cage ketchup
and mustard chilled fireworks.
Mid-thirties, she holds her breasts
back while breaching
the magnetic carapace.
Twin orbs blinking,
adjusting to the contrast.
Its night indoors
as my mother stares, wayward
hair brushed aside.
She twists her arm in,
wanting to find more than
those hardened, sticky explosions.