MAY POETS

May 1, 2012 POETRY / FICTION

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

PHLOGISTON

 

By

 

Jacqui Rowe

 

 

 

but light was not his field

 

dirtier in busy doors

 

and tightly woven doorways

 

shades of its refraction trimmed

 

and skimmed dishevelled ladies

 

 

 

his brain kept flaming spills

 

alive in bell jars birds fell

 

dead out of the sky his phantasy

 

revelling at length in patterns

 

of great earthquakes

 

 

 

the certain stars showed

 

smiles of loosened hair

 

wicking away all terrible

 

appearances and unforeseen

 

 

 

in time he went for phlogiston

 

and weeping said within himself

 

the first breath of a word

 

 

 

 

 

 

BICYCLIST

 

By

 

Jacqui Rowe

 

 

 

when clocks retract

 

in this purloined hour in altered forms

 

of words we make a film about

 

invisible twice over

 

a hidden Muslim on a bike

 

 

 

you conjure worlds inside the room

 

that play together to infinity

 

where unconsidered

 

children anticipate reunion

 

 

 

trains are running consequentially

 

in places we may never touch

 

 

 

if that’s not how it is you say

 

our unborn intentions never anywhere

 

but here

 

 

 

our only chance is le bicyclist Algerian

 

and in fake time this conversation

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8 Comments

  1. Ronald Fischman May 02, at 16:24

    Andrew's retelling of the feminine ritual could come right out of The Feminine Mystique. The question is ownership. If the daughter owns her body, men, and other women, will love it and want to merge with it. If a man or woman owns his or her sexuality as a lifelong gift, it can last for decades. Obviously, the poet succeeded in evoking a collision of worlds and spheres.

    Reply
    • blackswanpoetry May 13, at 18:55

      Thank you Andrew for your comment. I love to see where my pieces are taken by the reader.

      Reply

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