Thursday, March 8, 2012

'Oral, Oracular' by Andrea Werblin

   
  

I’d like to say the mind fortunes

everything, is chance & center

& control. But/and the lips

   (but laud the lips!)

paradisiacal, equatorial,

fabled warning & grin.

Unforgivably well-drawn lips,

lips that dinnae speak,

diaphanous and darling.

   (Embroiled, alarming.)

All lake water & reaching

white heron. Cloud-drift, fat

fat sky. And how touching

   (how disappearing…),

how there is nothing new

to say about them – except,

how about them? how do

they part, suck in whole

holy breaths, what do

they perform precisely,

what will they will you to say?



  

1 comment:

  1. I really like this poem. "what do / they perform precisely" ...

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