Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Helen Graziano


After reading Billy Collins fantasy on Emily Dickinson

I tread
on newspapers unread
Spread across the floor
Like checkers or Spanish dominoes
White pearl buttons on my chemise
are open at the neck
It’s my cleanest dirty shirt
Am I all white?
I do not love
riding in the back seat with boys
Totally obscene
Where there’s no light there’s fear
God I love cashmere (and a string of pearls)

I fear an all white calendar page
No appointments or flowers to arrange
Hope must wait for moonbeams when
My whiter thighs loosen
Like Leda
Diamonds crystals calcite white
All translucent
Float in the firmament
Whiteness is all
Sybaritic pure like swans on ponds
Or white winds with sails luffing
Forget all punctuation
just pronounce
You come too
Where there’s white there’s hope!