Poetry
How Not to Write A Love Poem Wendy Carlisle
Describe the wet spot between the shoulders of her shirt, the sweat in her headband, summer weather, linen, a river. Talk about chocolate. I will know that is not what you mean. I will know you mean you have food but no water; you mean you are banished from the city of the apostles where one of them lied before the morning lesson. I will know you refused to see your shadow again, refused to answer, or learn about love. Instead you describe the ruined city, grueling thirst, and complain of feminine evasion, of a woman in a sweat-stained hat.
The Poet Wendy Carlisle
She is at the grocery store now, choosing yogurt, hefting a gallon of milk, just as you might when the poem begins in her head. As she pushes her almost-full cart toward the bread aisle, she searches for a synonym for recalcitrant. She jots phrases on her grocery list. You cannot read over her shoulder, although you know her words will help, - will answer your most urgent questions. Imagine she at the counter writing a check for ten dollars more than she has. Let the debit reach the bank after her deposit. Let her remember the poem until she gets home to her notebook. Let her have time to write it down before she has to put the groceries away and cook dinner. Then let her find the word she was looking for-stubborn.
After September Wendy Carlisle
When I said the clouds were close to the ground, you said it was impossible to know because of the fractal nature of clouds, & how could I argue? Mandelbrot found fractals widely dispersed in nature & although I know that fractal trees include actual trees, river systems and cauliflower, I know nothing about optics. Next day, you said the clouds were low. You believe in government topo maps; I have no compass, take a zig-zag path to you. While you speak physics and biology I speculate on rigged ballots and the mall as a terrorist target. When we travel we argue over the shortest way home. Neither of us can find the four-lane.
Wendy Taylor Carlisle's book Reading Berryman To The Dog, was published in 2000 by Jacaranda Press. She has just finished a chapbook, Nine Parts Water. She and her husband, David, and their literary dog live quietly in east Texas.
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