Poem of the Day
Twins
By Dorothea Lasky
Man in an Easter suit
Leans into me
To kiss me
But I am not in the mood for that
I turn and cough
I am desirable
Man in an Easter suit
Leans into me
To kiss me
But I am not in the mood for that
I turn and cough
I am desirable
I slept in the back seat like a bad thought.
And Cathay was not China.
And Vietnam was not China
Nor made in China—but close enough.
He will teach me how to seduce / Men, stags, double-winged angels
between brownstones / where yearning / confesses its nature
but no one is always on your side / not even a poet
I am we: space the gift, / a white sprit of motion—
and I would lean in close and tell you that John Wick kills women like
he’s read feminist theory
Smoking a dart, I said.
I just met my first bird.
Born of a sharpness, and set to music.
In my hat I sit
in my cellar
waiting
The enemy’s late