24 July 2006 | Vol. 6, No. 2
Speak, and I Sit by You
You're boiling baby spinach before
that dreaded date, your hands
quake like the leaves on the stewing
water, backbones wilting in heat.
I sit by the Big Dipper speaking
with death, gleaning words
as you drain the wet green, the bodies
fastened to the bottom of the pot.
You say the salads are ready,
I'm scooped and brought down.
I say the stars are clean tonight,
the taste of ripe rain on the moon.
You say dip me with you before
we expire into the uttered night.
About the author:
Brian Dickson has lived mostly in the southwest, working various jobs in coaching, Italian food delivery, tutoring, and, after finishing his MA at CU-Boulder, teaching for CCConline. His work has appeared in Zaum 8, Copper Nickel, Stickman Review, Lilliput Review, Borderlands: Texas Poetry Review, Blue Mesa Review, and others.
For further reading:
See the complete list of work by Brian Dickson at 42opus. Browse the contents of 42opus Vol. 6, No. 2, where "Speak, and I Sit by You" ran on July 24, 2006. List other work with these same labels: poetry.
