Monday, February 22, 2010

Six Ways Not to Die

Six Ways Not to Die

I.
Daylight snaking into your bedroom,
pouring into your corneas like lemonade into a glass.

II.
Leaving the muted, loose universe of pool or pond,
the air resists your reentrance.
The first few breaths feel mechanical,
but how easy it is to slide back into thoughtlessness, oxygen.

III.
You aren't tempted to taste the bleach.
If you did, it would be bitter, citrusy,
soft and smooth on your teeth.

IV.
The jumpy smoke alarm. Overly sensitive.
Empty book of matches.
Lighter biting into your thumb,
and no flame.

V.
Your method of dressing.
A streamlined uniform of warmth.
Wool, cotton, cotton, skin.

VI.
Succession of awakenings,
the ability to recognize the new in what is happening,
what keeps happening.
You expect that the world will still be there for you.

3 comments

  1. Yipes! This is my favorite poem of yours to date. The lucid tone, voice, diction.

    It is a masterpiece.

    Has this one been published yet? Also, are you compiling a book of poetry to publish? You should.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Shut up, I LOVE THIS!!! It is right up there with Dorothy Parker's "Might as well love." Terresa is right, this is a MASTERPIECE1111

    ReplyDelete

The Storialist. All rights reserved. © Maira Gall.