Thursday, 1 December 2011

Kelli Allen

Bedroom Mythology

It isn't bearable,
the drawer
opening into another

The ritual
of looking,
all transparency--
echoing cauldrons
of what?  Gunfire

heard under a bed
and we could sail over
every surface
of dissolution
or even beginning,
but my declarations
are shifting,
so instead
I jump.


When you came,
I was already a split
stalk.  A clear critic

against the coming
quarrel would warn
my inevitable flinch

is perhaps an affirmation.
However, much like hesitant
zodiac heeding, I believe

only what you offer
as testimony in the fiery
designs of this diary--

A salary kept useless
by a single bamboo pin.
I carry zinc in the pocket

of your skirt to coat
my fingers when they slip,
galvanized into a proper name.

Kelli Allen is a poet, editor, and scholar. Her work has appeared in many international journals and several anthologies. Allen is the author of two chapbooks. She holds an MFA in poetry and currently teaches literature and creative writing in the St. Louis area.

1 comment:

Peter Greene said...

Interesting! Enjoyed those, and thanks for them.