“Orphanage keeper, handmade, suitcase bearing part of the sea”
Orphanage keeper, handmade, suitcase bearing part of the sea,
in which mirror are you least reflected; whose boots
have you tossed away? Take this shovel
to the far shore, and forge a campsite
in the darkened harbor, low tide
restless with fog, and the horse you borrowed
might steal the black fruit from your bags
as you bend to warm your hands over the fire.
Can’t blame him. Poor guest
to your desolate margin. When night arranges
its small breathing distance,
what is left on the bones
you boil to broth. Posy:
a fistful of salt. You’ve left
the animal to carry its own damp sleep
from the kindling and still she catches fire,
but no one is there to say
spectre come; no one is there to put the fire out.
Allison Titus is author of Instructions from the Narwhal (Bateau Press, 2007). Her poems have appeared in American Literary Review, Indiana Review, Denver Quarterly, jubilat, Quarterly West, Crazyhorse, Caketrain, Spinning Jenny, Typo, and many other journals. Her manuscript Barter, Fasten was a finalist in the 2006 National Poetry Series Competition.
Rob Schlegel’s reviews and poems can be found in The Colorado Review, VOLT, The Boston Review, AGNI, and The Greensboro Review. His manuscript Iceblink has been a finalist for the Nightboat Books Poetry Prize and The New California Poetry Prize. He occasionally posts reviews of poetry readings and other whimsies at www.flame-fern.blogspot.com.