nice one by lisa marie basile
Rahway River
It is a tomb,
my mother standing a siren
pulling husks from the current.
my mother standing a siren
pulling husks from the current.
She is the medium between
life and this life,
her body
less a woman
more the placenta
of a dead hometown.
life and this life,
her body
less a woman
more the placenta
of a dead hometown.
To me she is the old mare
who runs at night.
who runs at night.
Somewhere folded in half
two linen wings of a crane
inside her, a body
run down by water.
two linen wings of a crane
inside her, a body
run down by water.
She is ankle-in,
a human wandering its wreckage
as the cemetery stones
hatch in the river
after storms.
a human wandering its wreckage
as the cemetery stones
hatch in the river
after storms.
She is the old verse
amnesiacs still recite.
amnesiacs still recite.
A coffin slid down
and opened
and my mother had to bury it again.
and opened
and my mother had to bury it again.
Lisa Marie Basile is a Brooklyn-based poet and writer. She’s the author of the forthcoming A Decent Voodoo, (Červená Barva Press, 2012) and a chapbook, Diorama (Wisp Press). The Poetry Society of…
View original post 69 more words
