Poem of the Day
1981
By Asiya Wadud
in a world the orange sun resets
in a world the orange sun resets
This is what’s known
as SERIOUS BUSINESS.
That’s why the title line
Although I keep a kleenex box in each room to wipe up cereal and apple juice, it’s not always easy to find one when I need it.
My kitchen is like New York State. Sprawled out and with divergent needs, it requires more than one kleenex box.
Get old enough so you won't have much to fear.
By then, the music plays inside your head
and everything beautiful must be learned by ear.
She thrust upwards and screamed .
Her cat woke, leapt off the windowsill,
and broke a vase containing dried Latvian flowers.
A several-headed monster most commonly found on street corners, usually after dark, especially in Brooklyn.
Drawing draws us in-
volving us further and stretching
attention it sketches reaching
My black-lettered Hebrew Bible, dense
and doughty as a cobble. The Bible in Hebrew—irreducible!
Yet at the first verse, a hair-thin net of cracks
appears, each crack a vast highway, and wildly we leap
Arachne laughed. “You wartier than a toad
old crone, what do you know of artwork, ragged
hag, calling me too beautiful and bold
The world is white, twig tracked by wrens,
supposed color of innocence,
swanned with snow on hedge and fence.
Now we are going mad not saying goodbye
in elmed Milwaukee evening, everyone here—
Aunt May and Margaret, and Tom John’s limpid eye