This poem is from the new poetry collection
embroidered maps, de los muertos
by a. nora claypoole
a wave was in her*
by a. nora claypoole
for Louise Bryant
and her daughter Anne Moen Bullitt
I.
swept away. a
diva by her dad
under the aged
bristles of gossip
their was no
talk of a mother
there was no talk
of her art
there was a
quote in the daily news
about father is
and god and freud applauded.
forgotten. the preface
mother is my
friend.
mother is a
balloon
mother has
bird’s nests in her belly
buttoned
silent. buttoned to rittenhouse square
her legacy of
banishment was having a daughter
and loving a
woman. the paradox perplexes
the paradox
exists
the paradox
resists
the mother was a
balloon
the mother was
owned
by a man, with stolen rings
the mother wrote. her chimes
as requiem to masses
bolshevik
revivals an elixir to his kiss
collected
countries in the hem of her dress
a poem was
written.
go to hell
II.
he asked for an
epitaph and she laughed
a wave was in
her then
it drowned the
sins she hoped her daughter
would rename
her daughter
had her name and
died inside her
god. as a friend
to none
of the little
sisters
of saint veronica
of the
assumption
was, she never
loved
little sisters, of mercy
shaved, veiled,
chaste
thank her with a
statue
found broken in a box
III.
out west. her
first paper.
writing
about the klamath
modoc
indians. captain jack
her ikon. hung by whites,
scalped.
by her own people.
overseas.
a wave was in
her.
IV.
not even fathers
of the chiefs could save her
legacy is a
refrain erased from music sheets
still shuffled
on a piano sent East all the way from oregon.
today there is
music in the village
No comments:
Post a Comment