Tuesday, December 13, 2005


Her gaze out
of the bookjacket photo
is clear as glass.
Her neck
arched at an angle
only a camera lens
could love
is stemware
shown to
calculated advantage.
She chooses
the way other artisans
might cut
mass production crystal
precious urban artiste
who polished
her expensive image first
then almost learned
to write to it
quasi New Yorker moments
like dead flies
in the brittle bottoms
of champagne flutes
bought at a Saks seconds sale.
I wonder whether
it would be better art
for someone to
circle a moistened finger
along the smooth rim
only until the glass
bells its
subtly untrue note
or to keep stroking
until that flawed crystal
shatters smashed shards
into those insanely
expensive shoes she bought
for the book tour
that may be
that the only way
she'll have
any damn edge at all.


Fingers said...

How, How do you weave metaphor and news so well together...it's difficult to tell one from the other. It's as though you haven't woven with metaphor and news as weft and warp, but woven with thread made out of these two twisted together.

I take a bow and I want to have coffee with you, too.

coyote said...

Aw shucks. It's just lateral neurons, ma'am. Coffee would be nice. Given the logistical challenges of space/time though, perhaps the best way just now is for us to raise cups in our respective places, this weekend, and think of each other...