|
Christina Manweller
Postcard, Second Issue
Naming recent reads, you remark
synchronicity, which is a word
I used to dislike and I agree I distrust
the idea of it but the actuality
feeds me. Your note arriving
today for instance.
Do you remember your picture,
the tree on a rock?
Well I framed it in birch with black mat.
Piñon roots grip a boulder
at the crest of a red mesa
and puffs of cloud hover
in blue
pressing down.
Grapes on sale this week
one ninety-nine a pound.
I bought two. Pounds, that is.
What are you selling?
My grapes,
they're rotting on the vine.
I Can't Hear You
Why is it foreigners I go for
translations of translations
shelves and rooms
and a house
full of languages
I can't read
your face choking
out words
incomprehensible.
Mów glosniej.
Przepraszam.
©2009 by Christina Manweller
Christina Manweller
is a poet living in Colorado, where she has worked as a waitress, a photographer,
a seismologist, a shipping clerk, an art gallery proprietor.
She is a shameless poetry junkie.
*The expressions at the end of the poem are in Polish. Mów glosniej
means speak louder, and przepraszam means I’m sorry.
|
