The Foglifter |
Does your fog hoverat halo-height? Is it human-shapedand moaning beside you? The foglifterhas been known to work for foodand a roof, but do not assumehe will work for you. * The foglift...
Posted by Lisa McCool on Sat, 03 Nov 2007 09:13:00 PST |
tanka 09/18 |
Today I wear blue,sea-green, my hair wrapped in scarves,beads you hate. Who cares?You are at the shore, golfing.I am in our bed alone.
Posted by Lisa McCool on Sun, 19 Aug 2007 11:13:00 PST |
and a piece for slam? |
If I ever do one again--not too many round these parts...
Haiku Slam
This is a string of slam haiku. Mind youI won't be countingsyllables on stage.Yes, sometimes my lines fall short(though not tha...
Posted by Lisa McCool on Sun, 04 Feb 2007 12:05:00 PST |
Above Magnolia's Grave |
Did you notice that I stopped posting from my chapbook? Maybe :) I got bored with doing that, figured maybe you did too. So here's a new piece:
Above Magnolia's Ghost
At her...
Posted by Lisa McCool on Sun, 04 Feb 2007 12:00:00 PST |
Hammer to the Mango Seed |
--for JeffWe took a hammerto the mango seed.Inside, the lining shonewhite around nothing.No crinkling of our brainsnaked on the half shell.No nested Russian dolls.No pale and secret worm feastingon ne...
Posted by Lisa McCool on Tue, 12 Dec 2006 10:11:00 PST |
Prayer Over Dinner |
My hands lace together above the casserole.My back makes a cradle for your belly.You return to the folds of my left ear.You hang there, tender as a quail feather.Your jealousies have turned bro...
Posted by Lisa McCool on Sat, 09 Dec 2006 07:36:00 PST |
Noah's Wife Grieves |
For now, let my protests be the first before your God to wash this patch of earth.When I fall to the ground, hands cast into hammers,driving my forearms into the dirt,do not, mid-howl, bend me upright...
Posted by Lisa McCool on Thu, 07 Dec 2006 03:15:00 PST |
Rage I Walk On (yet another draft) |
The one thing about poetry that I do not like is that poems are never "done". They are like children in innumerable ways, one of them being that they insist on growth and change....
Posted by Lisa McCool on Thu, 07 Dec 2006 07:29:00 PST |
Before the Rain |
Before the Rain
Brittle grass under sandpaper rhythm of sprinklers fighting off drought. Brown leaves underfoot, an autumn tango through July, and the aspen still green, still quaking in the...
Posted by Lisa McCool on Tue, 05 Dec 2006 10:54:00 PST |
Rising Above the March Snow |
Rising Above the March Snow
When our yard was August green, not mudwe lay on our backs gazing past midnightto Aquila. Was it you or a nuthatch I heard whisperwhat what what? We needed blankets....
Posted by Lisa McCool on Tue, 05 Dec 2006 10:51:00 PST |
