poetryrepairs 16.01:007

ALLISON GRAYHURST : In Time
ALLISON GRAYHURST: Within this hour

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ALLISON GRAYHURST
In Time

The mutual condition of our heritage. The thump-thump in your thigh. Thin as a warrior of Japanese fortune and eyes rustling like wool in the wind. At bed time, the cockroaches are my cousins and the movement of your housecoat is my water. Sometime I found a necklace centuries old, and you told me you were not ready to paint the autumn gardens or do cartwheels over a cliff. But the hope that bled from your belly, the day the sunshine shut you out, and the seas of men's and women's breasts that you floated through, like Adam awakened from paradise, hungering for that one, strong connection, was like me in the winters of my adolescent youth, was the India I never visited or the Russian squares I buried my imagination in. Dance with irresistible charm, with laughter going in and out like breath. Dance under sheets where my arms offer no resistance to you and your long musical fingers. I am red as cinnamon candy, hoping you'll have me like the first day our hands joined and the bells of Trinity sang a melody to finally, resolutely live for.

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Within this hour 

Sensuous tears, the hunted soul in pain, in shame strumming its hell on the stems of weeds. Because I need you and I crept like a lizard through cornfields and rainforests waiting for your evasive eyes to wake and summon me near your mystery. Because a hundred days and a hundred painted houses appalled me with their good appearance, and all the waste of yellow spiders infesting the phone, on the lips of the viral public, demanded from me a beauty I could never give. Because my tent is dark like inside the throat, and the blue kisses of disgrace that soak my cheek seem to fall upon me like a web. Because I felt a dead thing circle my waist, when Duty made me his. And I felt such peace, a poisonous seed, and I need you though my sense of curiosity wanes and my heart is neither fearless nor brave.

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REPAIR: resort, frequent or habitual going; concourse or confluence of people at or in a place; making one's way; to go, betake oneself, to arrive; return to a place; to dwell; to recover, heal, or cure; to renew; to fix to original condition. -- Oxford English Dictionary


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ALLISON GRAYHURST is a member of the League of Canadian Poets. She has over 650 poems published in more than 310 international journals and anthologies. Her book Somewhere Falling was published by Beach Holme Publishers in 1995. Since then she has published eleven other books of poetry and six collections with Edge Unlimited Publishing. Prior to the publication of Somewhere Falling she had a poetry book published, Common Dream, and four chapbooks published by The Plowman. Her poetry chapbook The River is Blind was published by Ottawa publisher above/ground press in December 2012. In 2014 her chapbook Surrogate Dharma was published by Kind of a Hurricane Press, Barometric Pressures Author Series in October 2014. More recently, she has a chapbook Currents pending publication this Fall with Pink.Girl.Ink. Press. She lives in Toronto with her family. She also sculpts, working with clay; www.allisongrayhurst.com

ALLISON GRAYHURST


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