In The Garden

Adam

Play it safe Eve,

Follow the rules.

Eve, where are you going?

Lilith

Eve, he was always like that,

likes to be in charge,

forgets how much you do,

forgets you have needs, too.

Life is more than this garden, Eve.

Have you ever looked outside the gate,

have you ever wondered what is out there?

Eve, have you noticed the serpent?

Eve

Serpent?

Lilith  

Just here— I'll rest her in this tree branch

notice how she moves

her body hugs the tree.

Watch her move along the trunk

have you ever been touched like that Eve?

Eve... are you hungry?

elaine reardon

together outliar

outlier
i live alone    but it's all in my head
i'm very ill     but it's all in my head
i'm a nice guy, but that's very much all in my head
my family supports me, but
it's all in my head
not like a dream,
in dreams i am a kind of hero
(details to follow
and i die over and over again
those things are treasures beyond value, every
last breath i wake as someone else,
we all do
it's all in our heads
you're all in my head
when i go it'll be sad to kill you all that way
but it's just for me
i live alone



2019

If You Were Expecting Valentines

If you were expecting Valentines, it’s too late.
I sent them flying into the wind last night.
Some lay on the ground this morning,

glistening in the sun. The roosters picked them up
one by one and gave them to their sweetheart hens,
showing they are indeed more than just a set of drumsticks

with extra for the soup pot. By the way, for Valentines Day
I’m making a big pot of chicken soup.  It’s simmering on the
stove right now.  New snow is falling now.

elaine reardon

the impact

my dead pets become passwords
i shouldn't tell you that,
it's insecure and possibly marks me out from the herd.
the one living now, beside me somewhere lost in here (it's warm)
won't join that roll for a while but we both dream it,
dreams of death
deaths of squirrels and private drownings
in so many dreams with elevators and aircraft
it's not a fear of falling but of the impact

2019

Welcome, Winter

With anticipation, I imagine you are with
your usual entourage this week, at a
pre-party event featuring meteor showers.

Lace-winged snow clumps will spiral
downward, loosened from nimbus clouds,
just as I open the curtains in the morning.

A night of cold complete with thin
ice sheets that crackle and explode
when we walk to collect the newspaper.

Delft jays will shout from bare branches.
Every stalk and bent seed head will sparkle
frost sequins under the moonlight.

Finally, shooting stars will blaze when we
bring in the cat, the last thing at midnight.


elaine reardon

Evidence

Some days,

you’re the barred owl

gliding on silent wings,

surveying snowy terrain.

Some days,

you’re the field mouse

frantic in the frost,

searching for a warm place to hide.

Most days,

you are neither.

Most days,

you are just

the impression

of wings on snow,

maybe a tiny sprig of fur

left to be carried away

by the breeze—

not alive,

just the evidence

of something

that was.

wine synthesis

the hot day in june

on the foggy couch

your humid skin tasted salt

as you taught me to dive

into the stratosphere

without dying

you would not be quiet

telling me

the sea is the only enduring thing

flowing

neuroses would not kill us

our bodies wouldn’t stiffen

and i drank your wine

ruthlessly intoxicated

time after entropy

hearing the rattle of machine guns

outside town

falling snow mutes sound outside

and when a shell explodes a couple of blocks away

the blast sends

shockwaves into

your skin and primal harmonies

not even spiced wine, warm cinnamon can

bring back the colour on your costly features

as carbon acid snow falls over frozen defense positions

and the matchstick men

sink into the night

there is a place past entropy

in the center

where amber lantern casts its glow

shadows alive

the sap rises

here we rest while

bumblebees and gnats hoover

over our subterranean bodies

wine synthesis of

spider web dew and bodily fluids

brewing

©  Anders Enochsson