Issue 15
Whim
Arlene Ang
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First Debussy, Then Gershwin
Outside someone is playing Debussy.
I remember the piano teacher,
his hands moving over mine
to infuse skin with impulsive rhythm.
Then the F note in my card,
a last-minute whim, his gray eyes fixated
on marguerites that wind-swayed
outside the conservatory window.
Afternoon sun impales me now.
I draw the blinds to forget
his naked body, face my mother's smile.
How foolish, I mourn.
In semi-darkness I sponge her body,
like flotsam in water-drowned tub,
and try to ignore Gershwin
bubbling crazy from her mouth.
~Arlene Ang
Arlene Ang has recently published her poetry in Melic Review and Blue Fifth Review. Her current e-chapbook, Dirt Therapy is hosted by Slow Trains. Email.
© 2004 by Arlene Ang. All Rights Reserved.
© Copyright 2004 by Cayuse Press. All Rights Reserved.