The Cowslip Collection



" ... 'I tell you I'll have nothing to do with the place,' said Fiver. 'As for going underground, I'd rather go back over the heather. The roof of that hall is made of bones.'"


--Richard Adams, Watership Down



Poems in the Cowslip Collection:

  • Real

  • Chiaroscuro

  • Idol

  • When I Was Sad

  • Physical

  • Favor

  • Madwoman

  • Fever Dreams

  • Future

  • In The Evening

  • Driving Through Idaho

  • Below The Basin

  • I Love Goats

  • As Dali Is To Painting



    REAL
    
    What frightens me
    Is the sleep that
    Slurps at my insides –
    Sucks my eyes back
    Into my head.
    I lie cheek-to-pillow,
    Blinking,
    Thinking fiercely –
    Anything to keep my
    Fists from going slack
    Along the sheets.
    And when the world goes black
    I dream that sprites
    Tie fishing line
    Around my
    Wrists and elbows.
    They pull and dip
    And work my hands at stitching
    Up and down a yawning slit.
    Effortless.  I fortify the seam.
    They mistake me for their puppet,
    And I, assuming nightmares,
    Mistake them for my dream.
    
    


    CHIAROSCURO
    
    I pushed aside the winter potatoes in the cellar,
    Hurled earth and sawdust up against the walls,
    Trying to cover everything
    Staring back at me -- dead things
    
    Rolling over, eyes
    Seeking the sky.  The roots
    Glowing like ghosts in the heavy air
    Were almost company.  Voices, melodies,
    
    The thonk of bootsoles echoed there,
    Lingered in the dryness.  The crickets' song
    From summers ago; night after endless
    Night could not erase it.
    
    I gripped the sides
    Of the ladder with both hands,
    And – the gathering phantoms below me in the dust –
    I began to climb.
    
    


    IDOL
    
    It all began with you, you know.
    Your echoed greeting in the dim garage,
    Your eye through a camera lens.
    "This is my best friend," she introduced you.
    
    And now I introduce you with the same easy sentence.
    You're much taller than you were then,
    And I am much more disillusioned.
    Eight long years trail out behind us, specked with good and bad poetry.
    
    And when I publish my first book,
    I will dedicate it to you,
    "For the one who made me and broke me,
    For the one who is second only to God."
    
    


    WHEN I WAS SAD
    
    If he had been me
    I would have smoothed his hair,
    And said, "You are strong – don't ever forget that."
    Because I understand that
    A three-legged dog finds
    No comfort in a kick,
    And that, if it does make
    A tough spot on his ribs –
    Where the pain is not felt so keenly –
    He will love his master,
    But he will snarl at boots.
    
    


    PHYSICAL
    
    What creature – what goddess
    Might I be if I could
    Shake this body off?
    Taller than a flagpole,
    With a tiny head and gargantuan feet –
    Spreading my arms wide over everything.
    I would tower like a redwood, I would be a part of
    Polar bears lounging on ice,
    Of steaming rice in a Chinese restaurant.
    I would sing without my throat,
    And the dogs would sit up and begin to bark.
    
    


    FAVOR
    
    Somebody shoot me.			
    Take this mad cap off my head.
    It's too tight, and that
    Old, Chinese lady in designer jeans	
    Keeps looking at me funny.
    
    Take my picture.
    I'm posing for you –
    You can finish my grape sucker later,
    Just point and click.
    Vogue, vogue, vogue.
    
    Hey, I'm talking to you.
    Ven aqui, muchachito.
    You're dressed all in yellow.
    Close my eyes for me, will you?
    After I'm gone.
    
    


    MADWOMAN
    
    Pain soothes me sometimes.
    Sometimes, when I forget what it's like to feel
    Until someone goes and lops my head off for me.
    I like to put my fingers on my throat –	
    Test the veins a bit – so delicate.
    And all my veins are blue.
    They show through my skin all over the place:
    The insides of my arms, my chest, my hips.
    I think about all that blue blood inside,
    Moving along all innocent like,
    Because blue isn't sinister at all,
    And neither is pain when it's real.
    When it makes me take in a sharp breath or two.
    
    


    FEVER DREAMS
    
    That's where I meet the blue angel.
    
    In  a world where black-lipped
    Babies smile at me
    And creatures cling to the fat
    Of my arms, feeding with fury.
    
    I turn to see a great, teetering stack
    Of canary cages, threatening to fall,
    And behind them is my angel,
    In a green half-light, showing his teeth.
    
    "My, how fresh you look," he says to me.
    
    And there are gaping circles under
    My eyes, and the eating things
    Are still nibbling around my elbows,
    And I know he is a liar.
    
    But under his gaze I can feel no pain.
    The knowledge of his sarcasm is like
    Someone else's knowledge – someone
    Far, far away in bed, and sleeping hard.
    
    I don't mind his wings wrapped around me.
    
    Even as I suffocate I am smug.
    I gloat with childish pleasure
    At the beauty of it all – me, with
    Blue-dusted feathers tickling my thighs.
    
    It reeks of an old chicken coop
    In there, but my eyes are closed.
    I pretend my angel smells like mint leaves,
    The kind that grow outside my window.
    
    He sweats and says, "I'm almost through."
    
    



    FUTURE
    
    I will not be his only wife,
    But what will it matter?
    With him my heart won't need to beat.
    He will love no one, but have many lovers.
    If my body gives him pleasure,
    He may have it.  It will no longer serve me.
    Perhaps I will fear him, but
    More likely I will only feel
    A cool wind when he passes me.
    And he will pass me often –
    On his way to hold court with other gods,
    On his way to think about himself.
    
    



    IN THE EVENING
    
    It starts, and the voice in my head whistles with it.
    All my fears hum like sirens.
    
    I've never been able to clap my hands on the truth,
    nor catch a firefly between my two palms in the damp
    heat of twilight, the red sun
    sinking low over the Mississippi.
    
    But I love to watch them;
    how they appear and disappear, until
    the grasses are alive, full of tiny specters,
    only becoming common with the rising sun.
    
    The fireflies have gone.
    But my fear sits with me, cross-legged on the lawn.
    



    DRIVING THROUGH IDAHO
    
    Did you know, back then,
    That I wanted you?
    The farmlands slip by
    Outside my window.
    
    The clouds in the darkening sky
    Are gathering, slow
    And sure.  The men
    Are absent from the fields.  They have the flu.
    
    Black and white babies cry
    Because they weren't born in spring –
    Before the light
    They felt the cold.
    
    Before the shade of night
    Falls down I dream of growing old,
    But I'm still here.  I wonder why
    My throat's too dull to sing.
    
    



    BELOW THE BASIN
    
    The sun disappears, leaving silver
    On the horizon.
    Beneath the baobab tree
    The grass spears are dripping diamond
    Of a different kind.  Three
    Monkeys on a 
    Low-hung branch bent
    Halfway to the frozen green
    Are dreaming of Luanda,
    Where the cold – a stranger to this continent –
    Has not yet been.
    
    



    I LOVE GOATS
    
    I love goats.
    I love thick, retarded boys
    who kiss my hand.
    I want to be a vegan and
    I want to like swimming with
    boys who dunk my head.
    I want to be someone who is
    not me,
    who wouldn't even like me,
    who would kill me
    if she saw me.
    And I love goats – I love
    To cradle their heads in my hands
    While they sleep.
    
    



    AS DALI IS TO PAINTING
    
    At the railing I stood for a matter of years, 
    Leaning over, swayed by the dream
    Of a freedom blue with ocean,
    Until my own tail caught up with me
    And my Muse yelled for me to jump.
    "Don't look down, Liza," she called,
    And I called back that I had no trouble with heights.
    "No time for lies," she said, and shoved
    Me from behind, between the shoulder blades,
    Over the steel rim.
    
    Since I was falling anyway, I curved my toes
    And became the point of the arrow of gravity –
    Diving below the indifferent clouds that mark
    The boundary between an idea and a poem, soft with rain.
    I whirred past cuckoo clocks, open umbrellas, martini glasses, to the warm
    Whoosh of water where sentences swim with the fishes.
    What could I do but join them?
    The milkmen, the doctors, and those petite gardeners
    Who would look at me from the corners of their eyes
    As I breast-stroked my way through the rhymes
    On the strength of that long fall.
    
    



    All Original Poems Copyright ©1998 by Rabbit-of-the-Sun


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