Poem of the Day
1981
By Asiya Wadud
in a world the orange sun resets
in a world the orange sun resets
Once I thought there was no blue in nature
except the sky—I thought Nature couldn’t make
a blue fiower, or tree, or creature.
1. (Starbuck)
After the abscission layers form
Waterflow to the pods' end.
The frame of the house he lived in
supplied the wood for the gallows.
The floors where he walked were folded
Through your love words became clear,
were born again with a strange vigour,
like flat lines transformed through prayer,
Hermione, Helen, Hilda, I have been,
my pencil picking from inside a weighted
statue, or tree, my skin stiffened, mated
And what if now I told you this, let’s say,
By telephone. Would you imagine me
Talking to myself in an empty room,
is a bowl of stars,
not the sunset’s wussy Pink Lady
hours ago, before a solitary dinner—
Through the peephole he could see a boy
Playing patience on the huge crimson sofa.
There was the turkey, the second-best
Hollow as promises, their petals blasted,
Their bristled leaves now paned by parasites,
Their huge, black catacombs all drooping
Chott
Through the tent flap, across the air mattress, up over my shoulder blade,
The blindfold of sunlight slips into place. On your borrowed Walkman