Monday, November 30, 2009

I'm Julia, My Cousin Is Anna, and Then My Aunt When and Named My Other Cousin Julianna Press

True story.

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I'm in Cambridge from Tuesday until Saturday morning. I'm looking forward to hanging out with friends I've known since I was 16. These are the culprits of my love:





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Allison Titus has a great poem up at RealPoetik. (My computer changes the very last stanza because I don't know how to indent it, but):

OFFICE

[Department of the Lost and Found]




Whatever have you come here for, the basement

of a building near the turnpike.



Discards and burglaries pile

up by early afternoon, like always,



lord over this office of our winter’s machine: the wreckage

of the ship still wedged hull-deep



in the permanent glacier. The wreckage of the ship,

a bear suit, penknife and hunting knife and so on.



Statuette of a lion given over, who knows, put it with

the statuette of the penguin.



Poor drop-in with your grief-heavy

voice, take back your map of polar drift;



take back your mechanical leg.

Poor, dear drop-in with your grief-heavy



mouth, take back your McMurdo Station, and

the solitary southernmost ATM,



and the ice-breaker breaking the harbor, day in and day out,

this muscular opera of finders keepers.



Take back your overcast biding;

take back your weatherproof throat.



Allison Titus is the author of Sum of Every Lost Ship (Cleveland State University Poetry Center, 2009) and the chapbook Instructions from the Narwhal (Bateau Press, 2007).

1 comment:

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