Cami Park

Posts Tagged ‘Bees’

I have only one house

In How to, Poetry, Science on September 4, 2010 at 8:06 pm

circular motion does zero work
Evelyn Hampton

To attract a swarm of bees, hang a dark box
inside me. Is it my heart or my heart in my hands?
If only I could look closer I would be able to
understand the difference between modern buildings and the
people who built them. The nurses have blood on
their hands and I am the one who has to tell them. A bad
sign, I say, by opening and closing my drawer of
undies. Springs, slinkies, drill bits, and augurs
give the illusion of movement. A man leaves
by getting smaller than my door. A man comes in
by getting taller than my door. This table behaves
more and more like a wave every day. It interferes
with what I am trying to say about the weather,
how it is always hot and gray. The sides of my face
fluctuate randomly, echoing down the hallway. Laughter
the portraitist cannot paint floats to the ceiling
in a photograph of the hallway. Cease to follow the rules
of classical physics and they put you in a room where
four walls are so close together time hardly passes
except to say Bless you and Pass the tissue? At night
I can hear where I put my keys walking behind me. I have only
one house, but I see its doorway everywhere in the
forest. It grows from topsoil I would call enormous.

My dead smell like lemons

In Fashion, Household, Poetry on September 2, 2010 at 7:55 am

Pinwheel
Rebecca Loudon

I was tending the garden when a bee flew
up my blouse stung my left nipple
I was claimed then
I wanted to be a better woman
reaching back with a corked finger
into fruit
I carry ice
worship fur

My body is split
& wet in spite of alcohol
with the goaty head man
nails curling down
becoming cloven
I’m not alarmed
I like the pillow
slick

I fold the clothes of my dead
into plastic bags dresses shirts
socks slippers the whole shebang
my dead smell like lemons
their teeth are marshmallow white
my sister is perfect
she has a perfect body
her hair is a gold wasp’s nest
I fold her Snow White pajamas
into a square

I see the reptile man on television
& realize it is my husband
holding a two-headed turtle to the camera
all three of them smile

Hettie and Joice and Daisy

In Drama, Poetry, Surprises on September 8, 2009 at 7:07 pm

Rebecca Loudon is punching poetry in the gut and not saying sorry over at Radish King, HERE and HERE and HERE. Remember breathing.

Rebecca Loudon's Bee Tattoo