Scarlet bird feeder swings like an alarm
sacred technicians carve now a cave once a wall
calls, cardinals alizarin crimson
It was the year the poets took up painting
cadmium orange It was the year I quit teaching art
burnt Sienna It was the year of the Yellow Masque
yellow ochre It was the year I quit taking part
Payne’s grey my father’s eyes impasto sky smears
what of the backyard
colourwheel away the prayer
call me liar, each life I cannot perform
nib dib inky fingers, ribs of an
easel
sparrows cluster in thickets tender hidden
vibrato
hospital poems, waiting room poems,
hum along wheelbarrows
full of Whitman & other Williams
as indistinguishable as leaves of grass
crocuses, camellias.
Camilla’s Millarca is bloodhunting
in the courtyard again
Does the breath even need me
to breathe it or am I
being breathed
Gratefully residing on aboriginal land, the disabled poem-making entity known as Roxanna Bennett is the author of The Untranslatable I, Unmeaningable (Gordon Hill Press) & other works.
the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan
No comments:
Post a Comment