phono

I have been listening
for seven years
to this nascent song
that overran its well-spring
and spilled into our bathwater
curling in-between our flesh
in open-window summers
riding out along the rippling hem
of tides that blushed our naked toes
the hours that were never named
or captured with this idle lens
this fable, like a halleluja
for the mute and faithless
playing in your fingers
when you struck my mouth
and cut my hair
with your mother's kitchen scissors
it is waiting at the day
when blindness overtakes the crows
from stealing silver
in the moonlight
when I am deaf enough
to hear your name again
repeated in another womb
only then will it stop singing
and return its copper feathers to the earth

Reviews

[Emily B]

I guess I don't know enough of Leonard Cohen to be speak of that. I did see at least a hundred little word combinations that made me sit a little straighter and think I wish I thought of that . . . and there were glimpses here and there where I may have recognized myself. But, thn, if I don't find my refletion in the mirror, I've got to find it somewhere.

[W.k.kortas]

I would disagree a bit with the prior reviews; in my view, there is a bit too much of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" in here--not in the sense of plagiarization, but in terms of being derivative without taking it somewhere different. It's nicely paced, and there are some very attractive images, but it just isn't enough of its own thing.

[Gatlianne]

I agree with L.Ung...the visuals your writing produces are vibrant and wrecking and soul collecting. Your work truly reaches out and locks the reader down stunned and stupefied watching in awe stuck to a seat non-moving wishing and hoping for more, more, more