Lyn Lifshin, US




from January Poems

January 4 Rage

armada of

ice knife words.
You know those

mornings, one
word does it.

His friends,
his mess. Inside

my blood, a black
flower blooms,

such broad
spiked leaves

I canít breathe



January Rage

he leaves, a
rash of

viciousness, thick
smoke I canít

breathe in. I
canít let go,

each grenade,
closer to

its target.
One phone call

to his machine
wonít do it

Like all wars,
dark wreckages

blooming from
whatís already

a shell of itself



Rage, January 4

It starts with
cat poop

in the bathroom,
starts with

his verbs of
knives, a

look. You know the
way one or 2

things, a bottle
of pills on

the floor, the
sheet pulled too

far from your side

sets you up for
more shit






Read Additional Poems from Lyn Lifshin's books

Sketchbook: February 28, 2008: Volume 3, No. 2

 from Cove Point: Cove Point, Door Mat, Better To Just Let It Go

from January Poems 2006: January 3, 2006, On The Metro To Ballet, January, Metro

Sketchbook: March 31, 2008:  Volume 3, No. 1

from Cove Point: Music Hall, Diary, Photograph

from January Poems 2006: January 4 Rage, January Rage, Rage, January 4







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