Literary Archives - Apricity Magazine

Parable (Glass)

I.
She tells us again
of the time in childhood
her mother made her share
her favorite glass
with a visiting child
and rather than share
she took the glass outside
and (smirk) broke it.

Shunyata

Crushed velvet sandstorms rustle up new beginnings,
In the windy disparities of time,
Whilst the land looks on, smiling the empty smile
Of nowhere. I alone observe it.

The little girl made the painting, it was said, over the course of two days. The story went that her parents locked her in a room and didn’t let her come out until it was done. No food. No water. For two days. Some townspeople said there was a light on in the room. How else could little Diana see what she was doing?

Morning Liturgy

She watches the crane
lifting piles of wood,
moving them towards the other end
of the construction lot.
She likes to settle on the couch’s arm
when the sun hits midday
and the softened light warms her fur.

Sky

Now that we are sky-dwellers,
now that we (even the oaf
of a nephew of inept farmer)
are gods living in clouds,
what can I say to you?

The residue of creation

You
Are the ocean, set ablaze—
nature misunderstanding nature—
a rending of the universal soul.

My Husband is in Taurus

which looks like posing
my fiddle leaf fig in the windowsill,
asking me after its watering schedule,
as if I know anything about them
but to throw them out when they die—

Ditched

At sixty-one, I learned
it’s “dull as ditchwater,”
and once I pictured it,
that made sense too, but
it stole something from me:
the poetry I had made of
leftovers and loneliness,
and the yearning for a life
I still don’t know how to imagine.

Dinner Date

A sparse restaurant.
The place is fairly empty except for a woman sitting a table. She stands out in the environment in a red dress, her hair big, teased, and backcombed, resembling a lion’s mane. Over her shoulders she wears a fur stole. This is OLIVIA.