h o m e........
p a s t   i s s u e s....
s u b m i s s i o n s....
l i n k s

 

 

.........
KAREN KEVORKIAN



...........
EVERYTHING STRANGELY FAMILIAR AND ALIEN

  

All day, people washed the body,
stuck it, told it to open wide
to ease the pill down the dry throat

sometimes it was necessary
to turn from the eyes

sometimes dust settling
on the shoulders of ornamental glass

not the tall brown important bottles
with white plastic caps, each day
tilting toward late afternoon’s
foil fissures on the wall

and the mirror’s long silver shafts
slanted like rain, the body almost no more

it was drifting,
blood journeying on an opiate sea,
it left the shore

what good was disappointment
or relief, pale
as longstalked lilies, their sickest
sweetness

or the eyelet edging the pillowy quilt
bunched so like a watchful dog
ready for come here, now

 







.............
IT WAS SHE THINKS IN BLACK AND WHITE

 

September cooling, arguably
an understated beginning, leaves
crisped in flight, this must be
the house, how the sun
rampages through the trees,
the little yard a meadow
where unquietly once
a snake, shapeshifting

confusion, a door incised
with the past, swagger
of voices then the move to other
small rooms, another small house

of dubious quiet, filaments
of tree shadow
that craze makeshift
walls, penscripted light

 

 






...........
THIS IS WHY YOU MUST NOT LEAVE NOW

   

Vulnerably thin palm trees at the pool’s edge
spew down dead fronds, gunshot birds
brown falling at dusk

a little rain coming and going,
fine pepper spray on the face 

below the pool’s surface spotlights restating
what could not be more ordinary,
a kirlian woman discharging coronas of light

the water mottles, silver rings her body,
skimming fingertips explode parabolas

midnight on azure, endsheets of a handmade
Florentine book where peacock, cerulean,
and sapphirine profusely question

in the almost-dark sky clouds
of steel, pyrite, hyacinth, azurine

a strange planet, everything in motion
in the mostly empty expanse
of ash and water, ember and ice

an infinite meadow of heaven
of white fire laden and literal blue cold





  

BIO: Karen Kevorkian has two collections of poems, Lizard Dream (What Books Press) and White Stucco Black Wing (Red Hen Press). Her poems recently appear or are forthcoming in Volt, Michigan Quarterly Review, Agni, Poetry Flash, Spillway, and Poetry International. She teaches creative writing in the English department at UCLA.






 

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