Dorianne Laux

[opheliablue.livejournal.com]

I know this isn't a poem, please delete if it's not appropriate - I just noticed that a lot of people seem to like Dorianne Laux (me too!) and wanted to say that she has a MySpace page if you're interested - she's very friendly and down to earth... http://www.myspace.com/doriannelaux

Sorry, I would post one of her poems but the one that springs to mind has already been posted ('Trying To Raise The Dead').

Comments

[seamusd.livejournal.com]

Way off topic!

[opheliablue.livejournal.com]

I know - I meant that in the comment. I just thought some people might be interested. You didn't need to comment to me just to say that - thank you for making me feel really stupid. I'll delete the post.

I like this post. :)

[bellvampress.livejournal.com]

Perhaps you could add this to the post to keep people off your back?

APHASIA

After the stroke all she could say
was Venezuela, pointing to the pitcher
with its bright blue rim, her one word
command. And when she drank the clear
water in and gave the glass back,
it was Venezuela again, gratitude,
maybe, or the word now simply
a sigh, like the sky in the window,
the pillows a cloudy definition
propped beneath her head. Pink roses
dying on the bedside table, each fallen
petal a scrap in the shape of a country
she'd never been to, had never once
expressed interest in, and now
it was everywhere, in the peach
she lifted, dripping, to her lips,
the white tissue in the box, her brooding
children when they came to visit,
baptized with their new name
after each kiss. And at night
she whispered it, dark narcotic
in her husbands ear as he bent
to listen, her hands fumbling
at her buttons, her breasts,
holding them up to the light
like a gift. Venezuela, she said.