I had children of my own
in the glaring white gap
how fibrous and incidental it seems
to open your tiny beak-mouth,
that looks as if it would never open
let silence drill its hole.
now I hear the clock snap I swipe an ant
I’m drunk.
I stand on the porch in my bathrobe
a hundred times consider what you said
I had children of my own



recursion three : borrowed lines from Richard Jones “Rest” | Medbh McGuckian “Painting by Moonlight” | Sarah Gambito “Holiday” | D.H. Lawrence “Baby Tortoise” | Daniel Johnson “Inheritance” | Juan Felipe Herrera “tomorrow I leave to El Paso, Texas” | Keetje Kulpers “Across a Great Wilderness without You” | Nicolas Boileau-Despréaux “The Art of Poetry” | poets.org


5 thoughts on “cento

    1. thanks, brenda. 🙂

      those words “how fibrous and incidental it seems” have stuck in my brain for years. I don’t even remember the rest of the poem without looking…

  1. This one stands apart. The lines stand alone, demanding individual attention. Even so, they pool together in my mind as I read the final repeated line to form a haunting complete poem. Enjoyed this very much.


Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s