23 June 2007 | Vol. 7, No. 2
Florida Room
A child might dream this sadness of a room into Florida.
No hoarded orange blossoms make it bloom into Florida.
What weird alchemical makeover spun this storage dun to gold,
A geriatric's heaven where nine-irons loom into Florida?
Might some young Einstein not re-fuse this bleak-appointed nucleus,
Retool its quarks, by Bunsen's blue-tongued flame, into Florida?
A shuttle's launch-pad's last earth house to satellites and men.
Canaveral thrusts its hot flamingo plume into Florida.
"Life would be a dream," the neon Wurlitzer insists. I'd add:
If we could safely teleport—"sha-boom!"—into Florida.
Why kid? Aren't grownups, poet, brave enough to dream?
Best ask the crested waves that drive salt spume into Florida.
About the author:
Eric Bliman's poetry has been published recently in the Times Literary Supplement, and his translation is forthcoming in Sojourn Journal. He holds an MFA from the University of Florida, and he will be matriculating in the Ph.D. program at the University of Cincinnati in the fall.
For further reading:
Browse the contents of 42opus Vol. 7, No. 2, where "Florida Room" ran on June 23, 2007. List other work with these same labels: poetry, ghazal.
