Kristin Abraham

He Can't Be Homeless, He Trims His Beard
second place, 2005 poetry contest

And other similar stories. The title of his first book. Although the question is why they would gift this volume for a first birthday. So impressionable. The cover was soft and his fingerprints were forever after. Tough like a horsefly. His mother’s peas in a jar. Dried from the garden. Or mashed like spring, late fall like a housefly. It’s not a fruit. Just like he’s not his mother’s green. Not anymore. Said anymore aloud as he wrote it. Slowly around the soft spring. Swamp mush. Read anticipation as an open mailbox. Read red as White White. Having eaten warm from her mouth. Of breath like cinders. He’s her orange rind, dancing with glass. When the sleep broke, there was gourd slime. He’s her croaking ripe. Trophy wife. She was tough stalk on a mattress. They planted her peas. That’s when the stories came. Came to vine. She, staring at the apple. Waiting for it to bite her.

 

Ethic
honorable mention, 2005 poetry contest

1: Art Project
              First they cut her
              hair

               Then they studied
              her long bones
                               [humerus, metacarpals, femur, metatarsals]

               They strained her
              til she was white               [         ]

                             sifted

              yet stained with blood

2: An Act of Contrition in Ten Scenes

              They were looking
              for the truth, but he
              had already confessed it
                                                                   *
                                                     forgive me Father

                     *
              and it was
                curved anyway
                                                                      *
                                                        [pelvis, clavicle, rib]

                                                                                          *
                                                                      The whisper was ten

                                                                           *
                                                                   [penance]

                                                                                     *
                                                                      Hail Mary’s, an

                                                                       *
                                                              Our Father, a

                                                                                            *
                                                                               Hail Holy Queen