from Fall 2008 Issue...

Melissa Buckheit

White Goddess

How long you sleep
female without a head,

now piled sand by a friend in capris.

Say the head is separate from the body.

On this shore (Pacific), I house bliss drowning one

squares whose perimeters do not complete
run ninety degrees drop

off the face,

reappear as rosebush in Chinatown balcony—

I grip your neck,

not yet alive I

while the poet lies beside you
caresses your ear, educates Sun

I am the eye
the poet disinherits

No comments: