Vol 1 No 1 2007
Accidental Poetry Written by My Father
As She Lay in Her Bathtub, Holding a Flute of Wine
Autumn at the End of The Third Man
Cleaning Kill in the Kitchen at Midnight, Father Made a Good Point
As She Lay in Her Bathtub, Holding a Flute of Wine
Miss P—’s voice often returned to
details of her first love the way
a line of cursive must sometimes
pause in its progress to dote upon
undotted ‘i’s, or loop back gracefully,
spawning ‘o’s and ‘l’s—the way
great scenes rewind again and
again when we aim our remotes.
Usually, a Newfoundland dog,
unhappy on damp bathroom floor,
would nevertheless wait patiently
for the narrative to knot itself.
Jason Guriel