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vaalski

July 2012

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Apr. 3rd, 2011

vaalski: (Default)
 1. Virgin in Headlights (Edie)

In one motion the door open and
my bag thrown, back hitting soft, swinging 
my legs in and settling
hips and shoulders against
the seat with the rocking swing
of weight that lets me slam the door with the same
momentum that's carried me so far and then
keys in hand, the engine coughing over, Jim
up front and the boys in back, half-falling in, all
of them drunk and laughing, and then me
with fingers checking radio and dials, reaching
up to ask safe journey from the feather
hanging down to brush my cheek, all this
in one breath or two, no more. With one
hand I drop the brake, and with
the other flick the lights as I back up. In
the yard across from mine, the Virgin 
Mary sudden-spotlit , face and hands
half-shadowed, or half-worn.
 
 
 
2. Untitled (Jack)
 
I notice without noticing
that sometime in the past
half hour my low-level limp
has faded, sun sinking
into mending bone like
the slowest realization, and I curl
my fingers against the handle
of my third and maybe final
cup of tea today, knowing
is wasn't just the weather. I shift
my weight, testing. The pain
will return in days or hours, this time
and always, but for now I watch
the two of you and how you move
with me. And for a while I forget, 
and put each small foot in 
its place, one after the other, slow 
and even, equal weight
on right, then left, so that just
this once we walk together.
 
 
 
3. Untitled (Quinn)
 
On the way home I stop
three times, once for each
of us, on stranger's stoops
and steps, in bits and patches
of reflected sun, notebook
on knees, back bent, lower
lip caught up in between
my canines, my whole body
focused in on pen and paper
and I know
each stranger walking by
sees and notes and wonders
but I also know that even one
more step will carry me on and past 
the place the poem belongs.
 
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