GAIL ENTREKIN : The Hole in the House
CHERYL SNELL : Flower Half Blown
DUANE LOCKE : Solitude and Sweet Sleep in a Place Rarely Visited
POETRYREPAIRS v13.08:093
contemporary international poetry - for your reading pleasure,
poetry from new and established poets and essays on writing


All the fine arts are species of poetry--Samuel Taylor Coleridge

for mature audience over 18 BACK

Hope I
Hope I
Gustav Klimt
Buy at Allposters.com


The Hole in the House Flower Half Blown Solitude and Sweet Sleep in a Place Rarely Visited


GAIL ENTREKIN
The Hole in the House

Already shadows lengthen in the corners of the house where you tend to settle:
the window seat you sleep in when the other girls are here, the table in the 
corner covered in papers, wadded dance clothes, wrinkled lunch bags, the space 
you commandeered long ago and have occupied these years.  Deep in your 
books, methodical mind, you sit, your back to the room, your CD player winking 
to the beat, your orange cat sprawled on her back beside you on the table 
soaking up heat from the burning lamp.

Already you are taking on the luminous transparency of the leaving. You 
hug more quickly and with your jacket on.  You tell your stories still but beyond me, 
you are glancing at the door.

Already the cat, who sleeps with you,
is pulling away in your arms, raising her head to sniff, puzzling over something 
new in the air burrowing back into your unsettled unsettling scent.

                             And I, alone in the car and feeling fine, suddenly cry, suddenly 
sob because soon there will be no chance of passing you on the road in your 
silver truck, and soon, when I walk into the house, your blue room will boom its 
silence, its emptiness, into every room and echo down to me below, find me 
standing here in sunlight, your soft cat in my arms, my face buried in her winter 
coat.


From the GAIL ENTREKIN''s book Rearrangement of the Invisible 
(Poetic Matrix Press, 2012)

POETRYREPAIRS 13.08:093
I have many things to write unto you but I will not write with pen and ink
--JOHN the theologian

FIND home
The Hole in the House Flower Half Blown Solitude and Sweet Sleep in a Place Rarely Visited


CHERYL SNELL
Flower Half Blown 
Lids shutting down like the door to your father's failed business. A sigh in the balcony as we run the reel backward, summer-day glare battering down the blinking inner eye: I remember you. Rainslick lust, delirious mudslide emceed by Sgt. Pepper or some other freak, you curled me into wide smiling hands, your face blank enough to engrave We're all nineteen in our heads though the hour grows late and lawns in suburbia hiss and spit on an old man's schedule. Pernicious blue fills the TV. Shouldn't watch it, this traffic accident: Comeback rockers swivel by on artificial hips, leap for the high notes on crackling knees. They miss. Time has called their bluff. I should have left a light on. Something.
POETRYREPAIRS 13.08: 093
Poetry endangers the established order  of the soul - Plato

guidelines INDEX
The Hole in the House Flower Half Blown Solitude and Sweet Sleep in a Place Rarely Visited


DUANE LOCKE
Solitude and Sweet Sleep in a Place Rarely Visited
I enter a place where ferns green the earth Between cypress, And there are blue-striped, Fuzzy gold caterpillars Turning into salt and oceans Inside the curls Of webbed fern leaf tips. The hidden vibrations of metamorphoses haunt The rain-bowed insect spotted air, My life Is holy and whole. Tonight I will sleep on the ground, And dream The dreams That the ferns Have dreamed.
POETRYREPAIRS 13.08: 093
free counters
GAIL ENTREKIN : The Hole in the House
CHERYL SNELL : Flower Half Blown
DUANE LOCKE : Solitude and Sweet Sleep in a Place Rarely Visited

Not a state organ: POETRYREPAIRS accepts no money from federal, state, nor local government
We rely on readers like you;

(your donation keeps POETRYREPAIRS online).
link to poetryrepairs
NAVIGATION for mature audience over 18
BACK | FIND | guidelines | home | INDEX | LinkedIn® professional networking services |

submit [sitename]@gmail.com