by Lyn Lifshin
I don’t know how I
filled the house
with those poems
some with blood
and fat dripping
gristle, gristle
she sings like it
was a name as
beautiful as
Giselle
It’s been dark
greyish green
all day now
she writes watching
the words become
a wishbone
It’s light now
she whispers, hurry
come. The light
is harder
*Lyn's website:
http://www.lynlifshin.com/books.htm
June 5, 2009
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June
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- My Country Right But Wrong
- THE MAD GIRL, NOW WITH TIME FREE, JUST MAKES LISTS...
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- Murray & Marie
- Literary Critic
- Adderall Floating Island Dream
- Miscommunicating by Poetry or My 2nd Ever Alyssa Poem
- Golden Boy
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- The Night
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- I Should Know By Now
- Looking For Answers
- Rejection
- No I’m Not Happy To Be Alive
- Wax Stripper
- THE MAD GIRL THINKS OF OTHER DECEMBERS
- I Made This Poem Up
- Letter to Pris
- Loving Norman
- THE MAD GIRL WANTS JULY TO SLOW DOWN
- haiku
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- She Says I Like the Sun and She Likes the Night
- THE MAD GIRL ON HER MAD GIRL POEMS
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