Sally Malley: Trunk

By | 1 December 2010

“I beckon like a lemon, like a feather”
~ Sam Sejavka


damn that rose! there you go – alcohol’s
typos, elephant trees in boots, the body
like a present goes stale in its box

i say i am the sun of my room, though further
inside moss grows on kidneys, and love
as deep as the moon inside a wolf’s throat

o this winter that lasts longer than
a year – what’s to be done, but put one hand
on a sheet, watch it deny itself a bed

you shall arrive when you do unless you don’t
though in the capital of invisible prisons
someday the open door must let in a snake

it ends with a riot of affluence

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