Contents

 

 

 

Lyn Lifshin, US
 

 

 

 

Free Verse

from January Poems
 

January 3, 2006

tho I put “04”
on the cover

First poem in a
new note book,

first metro to
ballet, Ambien

and Valium dazed.
I couldn’t sleep.

Thunder, lightning,

abandonment blues
in the pillow

I never found the
right place

to settle on either

 

 

January 3, On The Metro To Ballet

mud squash,
boughs dripping.
Fog. No color
but what’s left
over from china-
berry buds, dark
mountain berries.
Christmas lights
the paint is worn
from. Ever since
the solstice, it
seems darker
at night. Blues
for an old lover,
a quart of gin
on his grave. Blue
sweatshirt, navy
shades and paler.
Bones that can
no longer betray

 

 



January, Metro

a young girl giggles,
shirt tail girl,
sundress girls in
a few months
you never can
imagine ever
needing plastic
surgery. High
pert asses, thick
dark brown hair. My
mother always said
my hair had
golden glints as
hair dressers thinned
what was too thick.
If I understood
Chinese, I’d know
what is making her
laugh and smile
so. If I understood
how in this grey
back to work day she
could bubble,
half sing, maybe
I could try to too

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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