THE MAD GIRL REMEMBERS THAT YEAR ALL SHE LOOKED FORWARD TO WAS SLEEPING

by Lyn Lifshin

night was a black
rose unfolding,
the obsidian ring on
tv around JFK
the day she staggered
in itchy green wool
after cops slithered
near, asked did
she want a
ride. Black to
wrap her like
her mother's
velvet coat. Blue black
as bruises flowering
on thighs, soft
as that night coat or
drugs that gulp
the edges, a lake
of ink gauze, black
taffeta around the
edges


*Lyn's website:
http://www.lynlifshin.com/books.htm