|
| Recently Published Poetry
|
|
Survivor
Radiation, that mad barber, rasps an uncertain razor across her nape. The hairline will never recover. Years later, a new lover will stroke her thinned triangle. He will want to disappear in the thicket he pictured before they stripped. What can she do with disillusion? She will kneel on the bed, bend her head, reveal devastation, brush her living hair across his coat of fur. Published in The Ledge, Spring-Summer 2005 |
