2 September 2004 | Vol. 4, No. 3
And Blushed
I had a laughter & for that
you had fir trees.
I was a figment
of my own.
On & on—unbelievable
allegiance to the imagination
& it is not for this that I have fallen
only for women.
You understand that as we get closer
to grief we are unable
to sing
but I want utterances,
truth baths. I could call
your part Sapphic
were I to believe
in fragments
but only the whole
can seduce.
The hole in the wind's sheet
becomes a sort of steeping
stone. All you might want,
a voice on the phone, mirror
on the wall.
I don't know if I can read
the landscape as it was before
the curing ceremony.
During you I forgot to believe.
After, love provoked me—
About the author:
Jen Currin lives in Vancouver, B.C., with her wife, the talented Christine Leclerc. Jen has published one book, The Sleep of Four Cities (Anvil Press, 2005), and has one forthcoming: Hagiography (Winnow Press). She teaches creative writing at the Vancouver Film School and Langara College.
For further reading:
See the complete list of work by Jen Currin at 42opus. Browse the contents of 42opus Vol. 4, No. 3, where "And Blushed" ran on September 2, 2004. List other work with these same labels: poetry, editors' select.
